Life Indefinite
by StrangeLittleSwirl
Summary: Post Season 1 AU. It's a sad fact that Damon, newly-cursed human, showing up on college student Elena's doorstep, is the least of her troubles.
1. Chapter 1

**Fanfic: Life Indefinite (**1/?**)**

**Author:** strangelittleswirl

**Rating: T**

**Category: **Action, Romance, Humor

**Summary: **Elena left Mystic Falls and the Salvatores (mostly) behind her four years ago and ended up in peaceful Finn's Landing, NY. So how come Damon being able to enter her home uninvited is suddenly the least of her troubles? Show 'verse only.

**Spoilers:** Season 1

**Disclaimer:**_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.

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The distance between the school and the long, winding path that led to the house was so familiar to Elena that she imagined she could probably drive it in her sleep. She loved the tree-lined way that ended outside the expansive home, and starting down the road was always a relief at the end of the day.

Bonnie's small blue car was absent in the garage; her observation hours at the local hospital had started earlier that week and they took up her afternoons. It was still strange to see her best friend walk out the door in the light teal scrubs, still strange to see spell books piled with anatomy textbooks in their study, still strange to call anywhere but Mystic Falls home.

Moving to John's house in northern New York had been an easy decision. He and Isobel were off gallivanting around, having the time of their now mutual afterlife (had someone told Elena that would take her doppelganger attempting to kill her biological father to get her biological parents together before Founder's Day, she would have laughed. A lot. And then asked if they knew Jeremy's dealer), so he had left the mansion in Finn's Landing to his daughter. Besides, Bonnie had been in the nursing program at a university nearby, and the journalism program at yet another local college was perfect for her. So off she went.

The last three years had passed in a blur. The two young women had quickly settled into the town and made friends. They were regulars at the weekend free drive-in movie, where they were on the 'Official Popcorn Committee'. They went to fundraisers, and tree lightings, and bake-offs. Elena and Bonnie really did love Finn's Landing. It had all of the charm of Mystic Falls without the, well, charms.

And hexes, and curses, and supernatural beings, oh my.

Not that their lives were supernatural free. Bonnie was an active member of the local coven. Isobel, John, and Jeremy all visited occasionally. Elena and Bonnie had had to use a stake or two in the past on some less welcomed visitors. There was a rumored local werewolf pack. In the grand scheme of things, however, there was something to be said about living in a town where she did not have to worry about a fanged, evil twin.

At some point after Katherine's return and the last two months of high school, Elena had come to see how continuing on in a relationship with Stefan would not be healthy, mentally or physically. She loved him, would probably always love him, but his suffocating protective bent soon became too much. When they finally broke up, it was as if they had both seen it coming for a while and had been trying to avoid it.

He had been amazingly understanding about her decision, asked if they could still be friends, and then texted her the next day to say he was leaving for a while to take care of things. It wasn't a nasty break-up by any means, but it left her dateless for senior prom. In the grand scheme of things, what could have been a tear-laden disaster left Elena shrugging even as Caroline called it a 'travesty'. After the year she had? She'd rather go stag.

But then Damon graciously stepped in as a last-minute dance partner for prom – the second time he'd offered his arm when she was in a formal dress – and the whole thing had been pretty enjoyable.

At least up until the part afterward, where just a little bit drunk at Caroline's for the after-prom sleepover, she had ended up locking lips with Damon. It was over almost as quickly as it had started, but there had been some awkward days between then and Elena's departure. She still kept in contact with Stefan, but was much in a much closer, complicated friendship with Damon via phone and computer. After the way they had left matters last, it was better to _not_ see each other in person. The three years had allowed them an easy relationship.

It would still be another hour before Bonnie came home, and she'd be exhausted. How the nursing and pre-med major kept going was a miracle (or more likely, an act of magic). Elena had promised her best friend and housemate that she would cook them both dinner, open a bottle of wine, and settle in for a decent Friday evening.

Surveying what they had around for her to cook, she had just popped her head into the opened fridge when a ringtone went off that left her rolling her eyes and smiling softly.

"Glad you called; I hadn't heard enough ZZ Top today," Elena answered, warmly.

"Elena, _please_ tell me that you're home right now," demanded someone on the other end of her phone. They were breathless and panicked, which were two things that were not exactly adjectives she would use to describe her friend. She frowned, and looked back at the cellphone's screen. 'Damon' appeared on the screen, with a picture of him from Paris displayed underneath. Concern flooded her gut.

"I'm up in New York. Damon, is everything alright?"

There was a growl in the distance, the crackling sound of branches hitting his phone, cursing from him that indicated it had not left him unscathed, and then a shout. It came distantly through the phone at the same time she heard it nearby outside. She grabbed for the vervain needle she kept in the kitchen drawer and started through family room to the front foyer.

"Open the door!"

She advanced quickly to the door and did so just in time to see her friend come hurtling, visibly, through the clearing and up her front steps.

Before she could even open her mouth to grant him a hasty invitation into her home, Damon threw himself inside and slammed the door shut. Elena's grip on the phone tightened.

"You have no idea how happy I am that I did not have to pick the lock," he managed between large gulps of air. Over his shoulder and beyond, she started to see the tell-tale blur of a vampire in the clearing out front of her home.

Wordlessly, he continued on into her kitchen and started to rummage around the cabinets. Elena watched his actions with thinly-veiled curiosity from the doorway. This was the way things had been between them that year when she was traveling between high school and college: Damon would simply pop unannounced into whatever city she was visiting, they would have dinner and talk, and then they'd be on their separate and merry ways. Of course, she had the feeling that the last part wouldn't hold true this time around.

"Glasses are in the top far left cabinet," she said, then crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "Not that you'll find what you're looking for here. Everyone brings their own when they visits and I know for a fact that we're fresh out."

Wiping sweat from his brow, Damon shook his head and retrieved a glass, heading for the faucet.

Now that the potentiality for loss of life was decreased to much more favorable odds, Elena had picked up a habit of listing things that needed to be addressed. Menials tasks, really. Things like plumbing, or car insurance. Things that didn't include 'try not to die'. Cleaning was a particular favorite, as was classwork. She made a list then, mentally.

Problem: Damon Salvatore

-No invitation

-Sweating profusely

-Running

-Out of breath

-_Currently getting a glass of water_?

Solution: Hell if I know

"You had better drink that water quickly, Damon Salvatore, because the next thing out of your mouth is an explanation for what is going on."

He watched her over the lip of the glass the entire time he drank it, tilting his head enough so that way she could watch his Adam's apple bob with the movement. Even in this moment of...whatever it was that was going on, he could still try to play his cards. Still try to gain some sort of control, even if it was simply over her attention.

Of course he looked amazing even after five years. The sun shining through her window brought a golden hue to his skin, and the light allowed her to see the pink flush in his sweaty skin, the light freckles that dusted his cheekbones.

The freckles that had never been there before.

The very human Damon Salvatore set down his glass, and prepared to explain what had taken place.


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

When humans get together in seedy bars and dank hovels, they share stories of supernatural creatures and urban legends. When supernatural creatures and urban legends get together in the seediest of seedy bars and the dankest of dank hovels, they swap stories about the horrors mortals had caused to some of their own kind.

Damon normally did not hang with those crowds. It was less 'Classic Hollywood monsters' and more 'the creatures that loomed in the dark shadows of Steven King's nightmares'. Plus, they had shitty taste in liquor. Sometimes, however, it was good to keep an ear to the ground.

There had always been stories about witches being able to curse vampires with humanity. The tales played out in a few different ways but they always ended with somebody formerly with fangs ending up permanently six feet under. Vampires and witches were oil and water and it was best to keep far out of each others' way.

Naturally, Damon had dated a witch or two in the past and had narrowly avoided some serious damage to his self. The sex was totally worth it, though.

So to skip to the important part, Damon started his tale at the bar with the witch he was about to piss off.

He had tracked Katherine to northern New York, and had found out about a fairly powerful witch named Vincenza Parisi who lived over in Cold Springs and might be amicable to killing her. He made plans to meet her in a bar and was about to stroll in fashionably late after making her wait twenty minutes when he smelled fresh blood wafting from the alley. Of course, he followed it. Free food. Duh.

The red-haired, older woman was barely holding onto life, clearly attacked by more than one vampire. Even as she continued to bleed out onto the pavement, she angrily stared up at Damon. "Set me up, too, didn't you?"

Damon crouched down next to her, had tried to contain his thirst, tamp down the solid burn at the back of his throat. He could smell the power in what now slicked the curb. "I'm good but not that good, sweetheart. Now if we're going to continue this meeting, it looks like you're going to need my help." He held his bare wrist in front of her face. "I'll save your life and all you have to do in return is help me decimate Katherine Pierce. Deal?"

She snatched limply at his hand, and muttered something under her breath before declaring "Go to hell." It was delivered weakly, but with conviction very evident. He simply rolled his eyes and waited, because responding to that last audible part was a total cliche. Her limp hold lessened and she let herself sink back against the curb, appearing smug.

What he had intended to say was "So do we have a deal or not?" But what had really come out was "So do we ha-_fuck_." Because two big vampires that could pass as boulders were on top of him and he was being slammed into the brick wall.

Cue giant battle amongst three vampires of approximately the same age. Luckily, Damon had just 'indulged' on a sorority chick, so his wounds and broken bones were healing quickly as they went at it. Unluckily, the sudden destruction of anything that got in their way that wasn't, well, air...it attracted some attention. In the form of flashing blue and red lights.

After evading a cop for five minutes, Damon doubled back to try to find the witch.

There was nothing but a pool of blood to show that she had been there. No trail of it to follow, either. The other two must have gotten there to her body first.

Pissed off, he went back to his hotel room, finding himself more tired than usual.

He woke to an intense hunger that ended up bringing him to a diner across the street. As in, threw on clothes and shoes and just, _ran_.

Picking up the waitress from the diner was ridiculously easy, and he had chalked it up to the previous night being fucked up when he didn't _feel_ his usual charm-compel-snack thing working. Then, his whole day went to shit when he went in for her neck, and she let out a blood-curdling sound.

Turned out he picked up one of those people with a laugh more shrill than Fran Dresser's voice. It was more of a nasally, high-pitched bray, actually. But what really freaked him out was the fact that he was practically gumming this woman's chubby neck, and his fangs hadn't protracted. Of course, she was oblivious.

"Ooohhh, so you're into role playing?" she asked in what he assumed that she considered a seductive voice. He recoiled as soon as the names 'Edward' and 'Bella' were mentioned to stalk out of the alley and back to his car. He drove straight to Elena's place afterward, having gotten the address from Ric prior to leaving Mystic Falls.

Include one seriously nasty looking vampire wearing leather chaps-_like the fucking Village People or something-_pursuing Damon through the underbrush as he tried to find Elena's very well hidden driveway, and there you had it, the reason he stood in her kitchen.

* * *

When he finished and leaned against the counter, he held his arms out as if revealing a magic trick. Elena's internal reaction to the entire thing was somewhere in the trisection of panic, hilarity, and admiration.

"So how long is this going to last?" she asked, finally.

The anger he barely could keep contained was evident in the tense lines of his shoulders and the stiff way that he held himself against the counter facing her. Panic took center stage when she realized what humanity meant: Damon, with all of his raw emotion – the passion that he had been struggling to keep _off_ as a vampire – had his switch removed..

"It's been what, five hours?" He glanced down at the Le _Brassus 1735_ on his wrist. "So that makes it five hours too long. This whole breathing thing is a royal pain in the ass."

She started to attempt to form a question, but her cell phone started to buzz its way across the counter; the movement caused them both to jump.

She really did have an amazing best friend.

"What happened?" Bonnie asked in a demanding tone. There was an echo, so Elena knew she was probably in the stairwell, meaning she had ducked out of one-on-one time with a nurse to call. "We had company."

"We do," Elena started, but the medical student cut her off.

"As in right now? Shit, I need to fix my wards, then. I can't sense _anything_. Need me to come back? I want to watch another foley cath insertion just as much as...well, I can't think of anything else disturbing to complete that joke."

"No, stay there." The slim brunette took a deep breath and sighed. "Damon says 'hello'. It's looking to be an order-out night. Just get back here safely and we'll figure out how to handle all of this."

"Damon is there?" Bonnie's voice reached a higher octave than usual. "Right now?"

"Just finish and get home," Elena groaned and hung up the phone. She turned back to the Salvatore brother and gave him an apologetic look.

"For the time being, I'm thinking it's best to sit tight. She'll be home in an hour or so, and then we can all figure out how to fix this."

"What ever will we do in the mean time?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. It was more farce than anything else, and the withering look from the young woman sent his hands up in a defensive manner. "Hey, I'm only human. No, really, I'm only human."

Elena rolled her eyes and slid a hand through her hair, a nervous tick she had never quite lost.

"So I guess blondes don't have more fun." Elena stared at him, utter confusion evident on her face until he gestured towards her hair. "Last time I saw you in person was the wedding, _Blondie_."

Alaric and Jenna's wedding had been three years ago, and Elena had returned from her then most recent travel destination with only a few weeks to spare. Jenna had bemoaned her maid of honor's hair color before leaving Mystic Falls and then again at the wedding. It was really the only snag in the wedding plans, and Elena had refused to dye it back. Jenna had felt it clashed with the wedding colors. Elena had said that if her hair color was the worst of their troubles, it would be a good day. The wedding and reception had gone off without a hitch.

Elena tried to block out the rest and usually did a good job at it, too. The part where Damon's hand had found its way into that blonde hair as they kissed. The part where her own had snaked its way up the front of his suit shirt...

She put that all behind her.

"Well, with a couple years under my belt now, I haven't felt the need to differentiate myself from Katherine. That was a horrible shade of blonde, too. Orangey blonde," she continued with a shutter.

He shrugged "You're the one that picked it at the drug store...and the one who dyed it."

Which was true. Stefan and Elena had still been dating, and she had overheard some comment he made about her looking like Katherine and she snapped. Off she went in the car, then marching into the drugstore's hair dye aisle, and finally ending up at the mansion. Damon found her in the bathroom two hours later. Her hair was a horrible shade of blonde and she had started to take scissors to it. With Stefan out ("brooding" as Damon called it), Damon had been kind enough to drive her to a salon a few town's over, and while the color couldn't be helped, she cut her hair in a dramatically angled bob. It was the sort of thing Katherine would have never done, and while she did not look like herself, she did not look like Katherine as much. The result was that her prom, graduation, travel, and wedding photos all looked like somebody else at first glance.

Her friend's movement from his place at the counter snapped her out of her reverie. Hands stuffed into his jean pockets, he started to pace the length of the kitchen.

Elena bit her lip and watched him absently, mulling over the fact that there were at least two vampires nearby – Katherine and this other one was that had pursued Damon – and neither one were exactly friendly. The extra stakes and dried vervain were in the basement, and she considered going down to the storage and bringing some more up.

They remained quietly considering the situation and watching for signs of the vampire outside for quite some time. The sudden sound of Damon's stomach rumbling elicited a light laugh from Elena.

"Sounds like it's time to order dinner."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the entirety of the kitchen with a sweep of his arm. "A kitchen that big and you're not cooking?"

"I can't cook; making dinner in my world means reheating whatever we have left over." Elena had never been able to get the hang of it and wasn't about to start. The year of traveling and having to eat out everyday had been heaven.

Damon shook his head. "Okay, that's _criminal_. I'm cooking you something before I leave."

It raised her hopes, slightly, to hear him say that. If he was leaving, then it probably meant that he felt there was a chance he'd change back.

After a quick call to the local pizza place, and Elena assuring Damon that they never had invited a pizza delivery person into the home, he helped her take out the plates and other items for dinner before carrying them into the den. He whistled appreciatively, taking in the room.

Elena was glad for John Gilbert's good decorating, because neither she nor Bonnie had ever really gotten around to remodeling anything outside of their bedrooms. The den's walls were a robin's egg blue, and the furniture and décor were all done in complimenting shades of chocolate and off-white.

"Very nice," he complimented, to which Elena had to shrug.

"Thanks, but not my doing. John had hired a professional decorator to furnish the home just prior to...well, everything that happened. Want me to give you a quick tour?"

He smirked, coming to stand directly before her. "Will it end in your bedroom?" he asked in a suggestive tone. Elena rolled her eyes and pushed past him. It was a little bit of surprise to feel him take the small step back to balance himself.

"Don't get used to it," he drawled upon seeing the frown upon her face. "Once Miss Bennett the mighty witch figures out how to fix this, I'll be back to my old, immovable, vampy self."

Bonnie called to say she was just leaving the hospital, and only slightly late. With at least half an hour of time to kill until she returned, Elena gave Damon a tour of the house.

It was large, and seeing as it was usually only Bonnie and Elena residing in the home, they had both taken bedrooms on opposite sides of the large, curved staircase that led to the foyer. Both rooms had their own bathrooms, and spacious closets, so there had been no arguing over them. At one corner of the second floor was the study, which the girls had used to house their textbooks and school supplies to keep them separated from the library on the first floor. Most of the rooms were empty or used as storage, apart from the room Jeremy had claimed, and two of the guest rooms. Overall, the home had been designed to be light and airy, very different from the dark, Tudor-style boarding house in Mystic Falls.

The sound of Bonnie's small car causing gravel to shift alerted them to her arrival, so they were already ]on their way down the back staircase into the kitchen when the young woman in scrubs entered from the garage. She grinned.

"On your way down from the bedroom?"

Elena did not need to turn around to see the smug expression that was inevitably blooming on their guest's face. He sighed and quickly wrapped an arm around Elena's shoulders.

"What can I say, Bonnie? With my looks-" He stopped when he noticed how shocked she looked.

"What is wrong with you?" she whispered, her gray eyes opened wide.

"We were helping you could help us figure this one out, Bon. At the moment, Damon is human."

"So if I punched you in the face, none of your bones would heal immediately?"

Damon opened his mouth to answer it seriously, paused, then pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You are far too excited about that idea for me to even consider allowing it."

Twenty minutes later, the three were sitting on the floor in the den eating pizza as Damon described what happened. Bonnie listened intently, and chewed thoughtfully afterward for a moment. "This sort of sounds familiar, like it's possibly in the Grimoire. Just a second." She stood and scrambled up the stairs.

Damon leaned back on his arms and regarded the staircase through the open doorway into the foyer. "So I get this vibe that she still sort of hates me."

The brunette still sitting cross-legged on the floor dropped her pizza onto her plate. "She knows that I trust you, but it's been hard, Damon. And this year she's graduating; it was something that her Grams would have wanted to see."

He nodded, mulling that over while he stared down at the hardwood floor. "Question: why would a witch who hates me help me to return to being something she hates?"

Elena could not answer because Bonnie returned with the ancient book in hand and settled it carefully on her lap to avoid the crumbs and grease of the pizza. When Damon tried to look over her shoulder at it, she lifted the back cover to block his view. Retracting slightly, he gave Elena a pointed look.

The dark-haired witch scanned the pages quickly, by now very familiar with the contents. Finally, she found the page she was looking for. "It's a defensive spell, a hex," she explained, her finger running along the brittle page as she read it. "There is not a lot of information on it in the Grimoire, to be honest, and I get the feeling it's pretty hard to cast correctly."

"What happens if it wasn't?"

Bonnie did not answer, and Elena's level of apprehension skyrocketed. "Bonnie, I really would hate to get anyone else involved, but is there anyway the coven might be able to help?"

The med student nodded, but apprehensively. "We've got a pretty expansive collection, amongst all of us. I'm sure someone is going to have a little more information. It could be a couple days, though, to get through all of it. Margaret has been wanting to put everything in an online database so maybe, if I offer to assist with that project, I'll be able to get my hands on some helpful material."

Unless this was a 24-hour sort of thing, that meant days before they could figure out how to fix this. Elena looked over at the dark haired young man who was lost in though. "If you'd like, you can stay here for now," she offered. "Bonnie and I wouldn't mind at all, wouldn't we, Bonnie?"

Her best friend's response to the scowl Elena threw at her was a quickly sputtered, insincere nod of agreement.

Damon snorted. "Good thing you aren't a theater major, Miss Bennett."

Bonnie glared and started to make a retort, but Elena scrambled to stand up.

"Let's go get you settled into a guest room," she declared, brightly. "I think Jeremy may have left some sweatpants or something. Might be worth a shot." Wordlessly, he started up the stairs. Once he was out of eye shot, Elena pointed at Bonnie sternly. "We are _so_ talking," she mouthed before ascending the curving staircase.

* * *

Back in the hospital, a nurse was checking the monitor next to his newest patient. The red-haired, forty-something had been found in a bar's alley almost dead from blood loss and was quickly rushed to the emergency room. Unresponsive despite all of their attempts to wake her, the medical team decided that their best course of action was to work on getting the comatose woman out of the ICU and down to a lower level of care.

With a sigh, the nurse finished charting the vitals and stepped back into the hallway, and the night shift case manager. "Anything?" she asked, hopefully.

The case manager shook her head. "Miss Parisi," she said while holding up the library card they had found on her, "appears to have no family or friends, the poor thing. I've searched the internet and found nothing, either. Once the police hand over the rest of her purse, maybe we'll be able to make some more progress."

The nurse looked back at his patient sadly. "So it looks like day shift is going to be making the medical record request, then."

The case manager nodded. "Even if we can find an ex-spouse or something, it would be better than nothing."

"I hate these situations," he declared and the pair started back towards the nursing station. "She's something to somebody. She _has_ to be."

"Well, here's hoping that somebody was written down as an emergency contact as some point, then."

* * *

Elena entered the guest room with a neat stack of towels and folded sweats to find Damon staring out the window at the backyard and the river beyond it. The upstairs hall way formed a 'T' shape that faced away from the Hudson, and he had opted for the left-hand guest bedroom closest to the backyard. He did not seem to notice her entrance.

After putting the pile down, she came to stand by him at the window. "Hey," she said gently while placing a hand on his shoulder. Damon looked startled at her touch.

"Didn't hear you," he explained, and then grimaced. "Can't hear anybody coming anymore."

Elena could not hold her tongue. "You're human, not deaf. Like you said, it's probably just temporary. You could wake up a vampire tomorrow."

"It still means that I'm human, and I'm aging every second I am. I didn't want this. I never asked for this." The icy blue glare focused on her did not scare her, as it might have in the past. Instead, it simply angered her. She knew him well enough to see where it was headed.

"I understand you are upset right now, but do not even think for a second that you can take it out on me..or Bonnie. I didn't cause this."

Damon turned back to the window with a bark of laughter. "No, but Katherine looking for you did."

Well, that was something new. "You left that portion out of the story, Damon," she snapped. "When were you going to share that part with me?" The idea had occurred to her, but she had hoped that he would have told her if that was true.

"When it seemed important. If I had been able to find her, you would not have even known I was in the area." He muttered darkly "I would have staked her and left."

Since she had pushed past him earlier, Elena had been trying, _really_ trying, not to remind Damon of his vulnerability. Anger coursed through her and she found herself yanking him by the shoulder to face her.

"Don't do this," she demanded, hating herself for being so upset, because she knew she who she probably sounded like in that moment; as if on cue, he clenched his jaw. "You used to take a great deal of pride in always telling me the truth when...when other people didn't." Mentioning Stefan would have killed the conversation. "And I have always admired that. So don't start shutting me out, not now." Not when she had finally grown to be content with the little that he let her see.

"What makes you think that I would ever do something, just because you asked?"

"If that was an attempt to hurt my feelings, it failed," she sternly replied. Exasperated, she sat down on the bed. The silence grew in the space between them.

Elena heard him clear his throat quietly before speaking. "Katherine called me, saying that she was getting bored and figured it was time for a little family reunion. Said she knew you were in this area, and that it probably wouldn't take very long to track you down. I've been in a neighboring town for about three days and haven't seen any sign of her." He crossed the space between them and sat on the bed beside her. Together, they stared out the window at the fireflies now appearing in the backyard.

"So, did you think I couldn't handle this myself, or were you using me as bait?"she asked, suddenly.

Damon pursed his lips and studied her for a moment. "Why do I have the feeling that regardless of which one I pick, you'll be pissed off?"

She gave him an indulgent smile. "You are a smart one, Mr. Salvatore." Happy that the tension had broken, and knowing she still had to talk with Bonnie, Elena pushed herself up off of the bed. "The shower has some supplies in it, and those are some of Jer's clothes. Tomorrow, can go with you to collect your things from the hotel, if you'd like."

He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the plaid pajama pants. "If those are Walmart brand or something, you can forget it. I'll sleep in the nude."

"This is when I leave the room," she huffed and moved towards the door. Damon laughed and started towards the bathroom.

"I'll leave you with that image, then!" he called out the doorway.

* * *

Bonnie was waiting with the ice cream at the island counter in the kitchen, and she watched her best friend trudge down the stairs into the kitchen. She handed her the spoon, and Elena gave her an appreciative smile as she climbed onto the bar stool.

"So, guestroom, huh? Not your room?" Shit, it had been a long day, and Bonnie was not going to dance around the elephant in the room. Elena dropped her spoon and blushed fiercely.

"God, no, Bonnie!" her best friend reclaimed the spoon and started to stab at the carton. "It's not like that."

The witch couldn't help but guffaw. "I don't have to be able to read auras to see what's between you two. I may not have told you this, but I saw you two getting hot and heavy after the wedding." She couldn't help but continue in a playfully stern manner, ignoring the how her friend had stiffened in her seat. "You two didn't have to follow that wedding cliche, you know."

Elena was blankly staring at her. "You never told me you saw that."

Bonnie had always considered that it was a giant mistake, and that Damon had heard her coming up the stairs. Suddenly she realized how wrong she was. "Babe, what happened?"

Groaning, the journalism major put her head in her hands. "We just got carried away and I panicked when I realized what was happening." She sighed, and took another spoonful of ice cream. "I think Damon was a little upset, seeing as we had been meeting up so much over the past few months, and I will fully admit to the flirtation that took place. But I wasn't ready for a relationship with him. I told him that. Bonnie, I didn't even drink that much at the reception. It was the very antithesis of prom night."

No, that had probably been the first and last time Elena had ever acted like that. And now Bonnie herself was on a drink-free party regimen; three parties and five accidental love spells later, she had learned her lesson.

And while a kiss was just a kiss, the somber expression on the girl beside her had her concerned. "What did he say? I mean, you both seemed fine when I came home, I didn't hear any soap opera music."

"That night? After I said 'I'm not ready', he said 'I'm not waiting'. And that was the end of it. I wouldn't want him to wait I mean, he had been doing exactly that for over a century." There was a glum sort of poke at the ice cream before she continued. "We haven't seen each other in person since, and I'm pretty sure it's because he was giving me space."

Elena shook her head, as if that ended the conversation, and hit her spoon against Bonnie's. "Thank you for offering to look into the hex. He might not say it, but he's appreciative, too."

The witch nodded, and wished things were different, because Elena was about to get upset. "Len, maybe we shouldn't rush into breaking this hex," she said innocently, before plunging right into her next sentence. "Maybe it's better if Damon stays human right now. I mean, he wouldn't be as powerful and-"

"And we could control him?" Elena finished her sentence, icily. "He's a vampire, and you're a witch; I understand that puts you to at opposite sides of some epic, supernatural battle. However, right now? Katherine is somewhere nearby, and coming for me. The threat to my person isn't as concerning as the fact that when she says something like that, she also means everyone I care about. Meaning _you_, Jenna, Ric, Jer, Isobel, John, and Damon. _That_ scares me."

She settled back in her seat, exhaling loudly before continuing. "Besides, if we find the hex, we could possibly use it on Katherine. I thought you might want to get rid of a centuries-old vampire whose fucked with you, too."

"Honey." Bonnie struggled to put her thoughts into words that would be understood. "Please try to understand where I am coming from."

Elena slipped off of her chair and threw her spoon into the sink, where it rattled around so loudly it made Bonnie wince. "I do, and I just wish you would have the same courtesy for him."

The troubled witch listened as her best friend's feet padded up the stairs and her bedroom door was shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Much thanks to my beta, the lovely midnight_burn on livejournal!

**Disclaimer:**_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.

* * *

**T**he rising sun's rays peaked through the front windows of the Gilbert & Bennett residence first, and they caused Elena to wake quickly from her dreams. The house was still quiet, but the birds outside were starting to call out the sunny August morning.

She slipped out from under the covers and padded into the bathroom. After exiting and throwing on her bathrobe, she moved quietly towards the back hallway.

The sun was only just reaching the backyard, the bright light not quite reaching the windows there in the same manner, but it was enough, she figured, to wake him up.

A floorboard creaked under her foot, causing her to curse out loud.

"Come in," Damon called out, "and stop trying to sneak around."

Sheepishly, Elena let herself into the guest room. "Morning."

"Morning, creeper."

He had only woken up recently, judging from the sight of him in the rumpled sheets where he was sitting with his back against the headboard. Hair mussed and shirtless, he was gazing out the window with a scowl. She could not help but lean against the door frame, disappointment on his behalf weighing on her heavily. Seeing her reaction, he shrugged.

"It was wishful thinking, I guess," he reasoned, but she knew he didn't mean it.

She crossed over to the bed and perched at the other side of it, unsure of what to do or say.

Instinctively, she pushed her hand out across the sheets to touch his, and he wrapped it up in his larger one, wordlessly. The last time that they had acted this way was at the Vatican. She had walked into St. Peter's Basilica by herself and had not been able to take another step. The artwork, the ceiling, the _faith_ she had felt in that building had made her feel so small, so insignificant. When Damon had slipped his hand into hers, appearing out of nowhere, she had felt as if she had never needed him more.

The small alarm clock on the bedside table ticked away the minutes, and finally Elena could take the silence no longer. She squeezed his hand one last time before slipping off of the bed.

"Okay," she started in a determined manner. She had already started making the list in her mind of what they needed to accomplish. The lilt in her voice must have warned Damon, because he slumped in his spot on the bed. "Get dressed and come down for breakfast, because we've got things to do."

Things like:

-Get his belongings

-Food shop

-Try not to make a fool of herself in front of him

He dropped his head back with a groan, and Elena was suddenly grateful for the fact that he would not be able to hear her heart beat accelerating. "Elena, I'm _shirtless_. And in bed. Shouldn't you be throwing yourself at me?"

She picked up the folded white t-shirt that was sitting on the dresser and tossed it at him. "I'm immune to the Salvatore charm," she explained with a smile. Well, that wasn't entirely true. "Try harder."

Elena pivoted and exited the room.

Had she waited a moment longer, she would have heard Damon's response. "Guess I will."

* * *

**D**amon did not do 'petulant'. He would have liked that added to the record of things that just don't ever happen.

But he certainly could feel himself start to get more than just a little cranky as he pushed the cart

through the supermarket.

Bonnie had taken it upon herself to throw every sanitizer, vitamin, and pill she could find into the cart. And then, after sending Elena off to the produce section, she had steered the cart down another aisle.

And stopped the cart in a section he had never really needed before.

"Um, Bonnie, you're a really nice girl, but I don't think we're at this stage in our relationship."

She ignored him and started to throw various condom packs into the cart. Damon also did not do 'self conscious', but he sure as hell looked around to ensure they were alone in the aisle. She eyed him, coolly.

"You and I both know that there has been a three year pause between you and my best friend, and that one of these days I'm going to walk in on something I _really_ don't need to see. You and I are not 'okay' as far as a lot of things go, but so long as your heart is beating and you're a hypothetically healthily functioning heterosexual male, you will treat my best friend _right_."

Damon knew enough about power, and the delicate hierarchy that it entailed, to understand how very deadly serious Bonnie was being. He nodded mutely. The little witch had grown a backbone. Color him impressed.

"It doesn't matter what you are, I could make you _nonexistent_. Got it?"

He started to answer, but she held up a hand and his mouth was wrenched shut by an unseen force.

"Good. Now this conversation never happened." And just like that she was back to messaging

someone on her phone. Probably sexting Tyler back in Mystic Falls. What those two saw in each other was beyond him. Probably similar flippancy.

They then navigated the cart to the freezer section, where Bonnie opened a glass door and started

throwing items in.

"You two are _killing_ me," he moaned after eyeing the contents of the cart. "Frozen meals? Instant mac and cheese?"

Bonnie tossed another box of the pasta in, her eyebrows raised in a challenging manner. "We're too busy and too lazy. Why do you think we have a pool and gym equipment?"

He sighed and continued to push the cart down the row.

Returning from her own trip down the produce aisle, Elena tried to slip between the two, hoping to serve as a barrier for both. "Got the fruit and vegetables you asked for, Bon. Are you sure we need all this?"

"No," the gray-eyed girl replied bluntly. "However, I'm figuring that he's got a low immunity to just about anything we have today, bacteria and disease wise. Plenty of fruits of vegetables, vitamins, and probiotics should help with the shock to his system."

"_He's_ standing right here and has absolutely no desire to eat _his_ weight in yogurt," drawled Damon, who was now reading the back of a yogurt cup. "It says 'active cultures'. That means this cup has living things in it. I'm not eating it."

Bonnie settled her hands onto her hips, and said what Elena had been holding in. "How is it any

different than the normal description of your diet?"

He didn't complain much after that.

**I**t wasn't that hard to start eating healthily, although Damon spent every morning appearing tortured as he ate the yogurt. In addition to the suitcase that they retrieved from the hotel, he ordered – and Elena had no idea _how_ – a closet full of designer clothing, and had it delivered to the house.

In exchange for allowing him to stay at their home, flirt shamelessly with Elena, mope when he needed to, and be an impish nuisance to Bonnie, the young women simply requested that he cook dinner from time to time. Sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of wine as Damon prepared food in his usual graceful, confident manner was becoming Elena's favorite activity. Even Bonnie admitted to enjoying it too.

On the last day of her summer course, Elena was dismissed early and got home to find Damon once more in the kitchen. A low, soulful voice was crooning through the speaker system in French, accompanied by a harp and string section. Damon's back was towards her, and she took the moment to appreciate the strong lines of his shoulders, the way his backside looked in the dark jeans. He had been faithfully swimming and working out every day and it meant he had continued to maintain his amazing physique.

"Nina Simone," he declared suddenly, causing Elena to startle and sputter.

"Sorry, what?"

They made eye contact in the reflection in the kitchen window. Even from across the room, she could make out his knowing smirk. "You were so deep in thought, I figured that you were trying to figure out who it was. That's Nina singing 'Ne Me Quitte Pas'."

She blushed and dropped her head to the side, listening intently. "It's beautiful," she murmured, and meant it.

"The little bit that I can understand is really beautiful."

He turned around and put the spoon down on a plate by the stove. His arctic blue gaze zeroed in on her as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"'Je creus'rai la terre/ Jusqu' apres ma mort/ Pour couvrir ton corps/ D'or et de lumiere'," he recited, even as the singer started to sing the same lines passionately. "That's my favorite part, I think."

Elena looked up a translation of the song later that evening. It was difficult to find sleep that night.

When the opportunity arose next, she promised herself, she would take advantage of it. It would only be a matter of time before he would leave and at least she would not have any regrets.

He spent a great deal of time in the house, as they all did. It was the only place that was safe for the time being, so they never strayed for too long from its defences. Aside from Elena and Bonnie's summer classes, they only really ever went out for the groceries, and now Damon's dry cleaning.

Every morning, Elena slipped into Damon's room, hoping to find him back to his old self. It never happened.

Finally, after a week of this pattern, Bonnie came back from the coven with an accomplished look on her face. She fished a packet of photocopied papers out of a folder, holding them up for the other two to see.

* * *

**T**hey drew the curtains shut, casting the den into a darkness only broken by the candles around the room. With Bonnie and Elena in their pajamas, and the Chinese take-out waiting in the kitchen, Damon thought it looked a little bit like some remake of _The Craft_.

Bonnie settled down onto the sofa, shuffling the pages. Damon took a seat in the folding chair they had set up in the center of the room, crossing his arms and trying to look as unfazed as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elena perch on the edge of the sofa, her nervous hands folded on her lap. She betrayed her anxiety when she started to pick at the hem of her shirt.

The witch put the pages on the cushion next to her and turned to Damon. "This is basically going to work like that black light they use on the crime shows. I should be able to see how strong the spell is and get a sense for what hex was used on you. Going by what I have read, it shouldn't hurt at all."

She didn't sound like she was worried about that last part. Damon had spent the last week getting used to an incredibly and infuriatingly low tolerance for pain. There were a couple of stubbed toes that had left him near screaming out in both pain and frustration. Clumsy, uncoordinated...that wasn't him. He felt heavy and slow, and hated how pathetic his strength was.

Bonnie took a deep, steadying breath and brought her hands up, fingers splayed wide in the air. She chanted lowly, and suddenly Damon was a sentient glow stick. Holding up a hand for inspection in the dark room, he could see how the bright, pearly light seemed to be coming from under his skin.

"Well that's a nifty parlor trick," he complimented. Wiggling his fingers at Elena, who was sitting behind him, he added: "Miss Gilbert, should you require a nightlight in the boudoir tonight, I'm readily available."

He waited for the snort or laugh that should have happened.

"Actually, it appears I've got that covered all on my own, thanks," she faintly answered. Damon

swiveled in his chair.

The light was a dark purple and it was nowhere as bright but Elena was most definitely glowing, and he could not help but turn on the distracted witch who was buried in her papers.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" he growled, and immediately her head shot up.

"What? No! I didn't...she's my _best friend_! That's too faint to be a full-on hex. It's probably residual magic."

Elena nodded, adding helpfully: "I've played guinea pig for the coven a couple times. Nothing serious."

Well, after dating vampires and confronting a killer doppelganger, he could see how letting a group of magical people throw spells at you seemed as normal as taking out the trash. "Come a long way from the girl freaking out in my passenger seat on the way to Georgia."

She rolled her eyes. "I had a concussion and you kidnapped me, asshole."

Damon smiled indulgently and leaned back in the chair, draping his arm along the top. "And yet, here we are."

"Yeah, okay, the witch says '_Time to move the will-they-or-won't-they? fest into the kitchen_'." Bonnie said without looking up, and continued to scribble furiously on the blank notepad. Damon looked around, surprised to see the candles extinguished and the curtains opened once more.

If she was writing that quickly then it meant she had found something and was therefore working on a way to fix him. And if she refused, he at least knew there was a solution, and he could find another witch to do it. Damon was relieved.

And yet...

When he saw that Elena was collecting the candles onto a tray to take them into the other room, he started to follow suit, knowing that he'd have private time to talk to her in the kitchen if he assisted. Her slim figure disappeared around the corner, and he couldn't help but stand there for a minute, deliberating over what he was about to do.

A piece of paper hit the side of his head. Scowling, he turned to face the seated witch.

'_Go_', she mouthed, jerking her head in the direction of the doorway. He did exactly that.

"Thanks," he called quietly from the doorway, but the witch did not show any sign of hearing him. Taking a steadying breath, he pasted on a smile.

"So I guess I'll be out of here soon enough, and you two can get back to pillow fights in underwear and your experimental French kissing."

Elena set her tray down and turned to face him, attempting to stifle her smile. Damon happily noted that there was no sign of discomfort when she realized how little space there was between them.

He could smell her perfume – he had always been able to distinguish the difference between the vanilla scent and the one that was all her own. Only now, the perfume did not seem so artificial to his dulled sense of smell. Her warm, brown eyes looked up into his as her inviting lips spread into that unbridled smile.

"I guess I'll admit you aren't such bad company after all."

A compliment that paraphrased himself? An ego stroke like that should have been left exclusively for the bedroom.

Then she pushed past him in a move that he had to applaud; despite the massive expanse of the room, she had ensured that her movement had brought most of her front into contact with his. His pesky heart rate flew through the roof and he felt dizzy from the rush of blood in the opposite direction.

"I'll admit I'll miss the cooking," she said lightly, busying herself in the sink. "So what's the plan: stake Katherine, then head back to the Falls?"

It was a now-or-never moment. Damon sidled over to her and grabbed the dish as she went to place it in the dishwasher, knowing the action had gained her attention years before. Casually, he stated: "It depends, I guess."

"On what?" She fumbled with a glass and lost it within the sudsy water. When Elena leaned forward, her face was suddenly hidden behind the curtain of her mahogany hair. He had dreamed of that hair, how it felt in between his fingers, how it would look across the pillow when she was beneath him, how it would smell as he pressed his lips to her neck before making her his forever.

Baby steps, Salvatore.

"On whether or not we are ever going to do anything about what's going on here."

* * *

**E**lena lost her grasp of the cup once again and it landed with a loud plunk in the basin. She turned slowly to face him and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of how intently he was watching her for a response.

"It's been _three_ years, Elena," he said lowly. "You sure as hell don't love my brother anymore, so

what's stopping us?" He must have seen her start to attempt to brush off his question because he took a step closer, although he made no attempt to touch her. And she _wanted_ to be touched. She had been looking forward to every little stolen moment of physical contact in the last few days, had been trying to keep it to herself because there was just too much going on to even fathom...this.

After so many years, she now understood what exactly had been so damn erotic about that dance at the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant. To be so close and yet not touching was some kind of ridiculous torture.

"Excuse me for sounding like some TV movie cliché, but you cannot deny the fact that there is

definitely something going on between us."

Looking up into his ensnaring gaze, the smell of his aftershave, the feel of him being _so close_ was too much. Elena was not the type of woman to fawn over a man, but she could not help it when she leaned back against the counter and exhaled sharply, closing her eyes. When she did so, he must have taken it as a sign to back off, because he moved back slightly and the absence of his person so close to her _hurt_.

"I want you. I want you so much," he whispered, and they might as well have been naked, standing there. It wasn't like Damon to be so forthcoming. "I hate that I'm so attracted to you, that I've been willing to wait, to respect your desire for space. This isn't me. Three years later and I still think about what would have happened if we'd followed through at the wedding, or the prom, or in any of those cities."

He was too close still for her hand to make its way through her hair, and she did not want to step away from what was happening. Elena Gilbert was tired of running away.

But she was also tired of being mistaken for someone else.

"I'm not Katherine."

"And I'm not my goddamn brother," he growled back. "So start talking, Elena."

It scared her how quickly she closed the distance between them and claimed his mouth. It was what he wanted but it was not what he had asked for, so she could derive some small sense of satisfaction from her choice. His lips were just as soft as the last time they had kissed, only the heat of his mouth was new. Her wet hands wound themselves into his black curls, and she raised herself on tiptoe as best she could to even out their height difference.

He bent and pressed against her, holding her in place against the counter. Three years and his hands across her back still left that same streak of electricity trailing behind them, a feeling she had yearned for. It was impossible to stop the appreciative moan that escaped her throat.

"I'm almost finished, so you two have to be as well!" called Bonnie from the other room. They pulled away from one another with more than slight reluctance.

"So should I assume you'll take my suggestion under consideration?" he murmured as they sluggishly went back to the dishes and Bonnie entered the room. If Elena was anywhere as flushed or flustered looking as Damon was, it explained the reason she rolled her eyes.

Damon nodded at Bonnie. "Any news?"

The young witch flashed him a knowing smirk while she placed her papers down on the counter and slipped onto a seat. "You were hit with an incredibly old hex," she announced and then continued in a impassioned tone: "This spell, from a witch's perspective, is incredible."

Damon snickered. "So it will totally _suck_ from my point of view."

Bonnie ignored him. "It goes back almost a thousand years. Turns out this used to be fairly popular and it's made its way into some supernatural myths we have on file. Anyway, it was a fairly sophisticated way of torturing the enemy by making them as weak and vulnerable as possible. Once they were human again, which in most cases they despised, vampire blood had no effect on them. They remained like that until the witch decided otherwise. In the records I found a couple variations: a year, until the vampire wanted to be human, or um...death."

Unbidden, Elena blurted: "That's horrible."

"You're forgetting they were torturing monsters," chimed Damon while his glance never left Bonnie. "All for the cause, right?"

"Tyler mentioned something about you being a complete asshole, recently," sighed Bonnie. She

twisted around and grabbed at a sheet behind her. "Anyway, I am able to state a few things and say that there is a 99.9% chance that I am correct about them. First, you clearly ticked off a very powerful witch with at least some knowledge of historic hexes. Second, although she was strong, the hex is sloppy work." She stopped.

"There's a third isn't there?" Damon asked and crossed his arms across his chest.

"I can't fix it," Bonnie admitted. "Even if I wanted to, and even if I got the whole coven to help out, there is no way to break this thing. It's got to run its course."

"A course that could be forever." Elena stared at her bare toes on the kitchen floor with a miserable look.

Damon was being eerily quiet until he asked "So how long do you think-"

"I don't. I can't say. You could wake up in a year with your fangs, or it could take saving a kitten from a tree. I honestly couldn't tell you."

He nodded curtly. "Thank you, Bonnie." He started briskly for the door, grabbing his keys along the way.

Elena panicked. "But Katherine-"

"-Is probably trying to find me," he finished, and held up the stake he had pulled from the kitchen drawer. "I really fucking hope she does."

The door slammed shut loudly.

It only took a minute for Elena, with her hands clenched into fists, to stalk towards the garage door. Bonnie intercepted her with a gentle touch on the shoulder.

"Maybe he needs some space," she suggested, and Elena guffawed. That was the last thing he needed or wanted, judging on what they had just been talking about prior.

"We both know he's going to find the nearest bar and drown his sorrows. Stefan broods silently and Damon drinks sulkily; it's their thing."

"Damon is going to drink?" Bonnie appeared worried.

Elena slipped on her shoes, but straightened instantly as she realized. "Oh shit."

"Yeah."

"Staying?" she asked and grabbed the keys.

Bonnie gave her an incredulous look. "And miss Damon Salvatore making a drunken ass of himself? Never in a million years."

Unfortunately for them, there were at least a dozen bars within a fifteen minute driving distance of the house.

* * *

**D**amon slammed the now emptied shot glass back down onto the counter, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. The drink left a burning sensation in the back of his throat that bloomed in his chest, reminding him of that familiar hunger. He gestured for another.

The bartender eyed the glass of bourbon he had already waiting on the bar. "I think you're good for now," he said gently.

If only Damon had realized how wonderful being drunk was last time he was alive. He had felt his nose go numb a while ago, his hands refused to listen to his directions, and his worries had floated away. Damon started on the bourbon and fumbled with his free hand for his cell phone. He hit the third speed dial button and turned his back to the others at the bar. It rang through to voice mail.

_'This is Stefan. I am not available in this time, so leave the time that you called and your message so that I may get back to you_'.

Damon sneered as he waited for the beep.

"I nominated you for 'World's Most Boring Voice Message', but seeing as you _never check_ your phone, they gave it to Peter Jennings.

"Listen, if you could, give your favorite brother a call. Need a favor. Not for me – you hate me and I get that – but for Elena. When you finish crying over the mention of her name, call me."

He turned back around to face the bar but the room kept spinning; nausea started to grow in his

stomach and he gripped at the counter.

"Why don't you give your girlfriend there a call," suggested the bartender, tapping at the photo in

Damon's open wallet on the counter. Blonde Elena, Chicago, and a mediocre grunge revival concert in a seedy bar. Good times.

After brushing off the barkeeper's concern, the drunk man swayed towards the exit, gripping at chair backs as he went.

A blonde barfly winked at him, causing him to pause and study her.

"Nope," he said, drawing the word out. "She was still prettier blonde." And off he went.

This was not as fun as pretending to be drunk. At least then he could get Elena to button his shirt, get so close he could smell her hair, hear her heartbeat.

Stumbling out the door into the riverfront parking lot, Damon gave a bark of laughter at his situation. What would Doctor/Nurse/Whatever Bonnie think of him right now? No amount of nasty ass yogurt or vitamins could fix him.

"Nice act," called a voice behind him. Damon swung around, skittering to keep his balance. The

barfly had followed him out. He squinted in the darkness. "Did I fuck you?" he asked after a moment of pondering.

Maybe thirty years ago she would have been attractive in that get up. But now? Not so much.

She started to stalk towards him.

"'s 'yes', innit?"

The woman did not get very close, because a dark blue Prius squealed into the parking lot and stopped next to him, blocking the woman's straight path to Damon.

It must have been a trick of light and alcohol, because the woman's eyes turned black.

The driver's door swung open, and a petite, pissed off brunette appeared over the top of the car. There was a spray bottle in her hand. "We have been looking for you for two hours, Damon!" Elena yelled, glaring at him. "Do you know what could have happened to you?"

Bonnie looked overwhelmed in the passenger seat, where she was clutching onto the seat belt.

Elena was too busy shrilly yelling about his emotional issues to notice that the woman from the bar? Yeah. Growling.

"Len," he yelled, trying to catch her attention.

"What?" Was it weird that a face that was normally pretty could contract like that?

He couldn't get the word out, mouth still mealy and non-compliant. So he held up curved pointer and middle fingers to his upper lip and waved frantically.

Elena turned around so quickly that her long dark hair flew up in the wind. Damon fell onto the

passenger side of the car, fumbling with the stake in his jacket pocket. "Elena!"

Bonnie pushed against the car door and Damon for a moment before realizing his weight was too much for her to push, so she reached across the middle console and pressed the small stake into Elena's waiting grasp.

Which turned out to be incredibly well-timed as the vampire blurred forward, clearly intent on reaching Damon even if it meant getting through Elena to do so. Elena thrust the spray bottle out in front of her and pulled the trigger. The vampire faltered, screaming and clutching at her face. In that moment of distraction, Elena thrust the stake into the woman's chest, using the vampire's own momentum to sink the stake in further.

His friend fell back against the car as the vampire fell onto her before she pushed the drying body off of her. She scrambled to stand, panting and pulling her hair off of her face. Damon wanted to say something appreciative, but he had to lean over and heave the contents of his stomach onto the pavement.

The next ten minutes were spent getting the body into the trunk of his car. Elena reached into his back pocket at one point, causing him a second of confusion (because seriously? It would be his luck that Elena would be the type to get horny post-staking) before she jingled the keys.

Once they were in the car, Elena put a trash bag into Damon's hand and carefully started to follow Bonnie's car home. She drove with the window open, and the August air helped him slightly.

"Didn't know you drove stick."

She regarded him levelly. "Didn't know you'd act this stupid. A drink or two I get, but seeing you like this makes me think you forgot you had a liver."

It was an annoying organ, anyway.

He settled sideways on the seat and rested his cheek against the headrest.

"What was in the bottle?" he asked.

"Vervain and olive oil."

"Bonnie?"

"Me, actually," she corrected. "Bonnie figured water and vervain out, but since oil wouldn't wipe off as easily..."

"I could so use that with Tyler next time he tries to hump my couch." Damon could feel his head

clearing slightly. Enough to be witty, at least. "With the rest of the pack there, I think it would be

okay if he left Mystic Falls and visited his girlfriend for a while."

"Bonnie would like that," Elena said, and then smiled slyly. "I'm sure your bromance has been

suffering."

"He's been filling the void my departure left by patrolling with Ric, who pales in comparison in the wit and looks departments."

"Glad to hear that your dream team is working out. Has the town been that bad? Jenna hasn't

mentioned it on the phone." Oh, she would have been the first to know if a leaf so much as blew off a tree in a slightly less-than-normal manner. Ever since being clued in to what was really going on in their town, Jenna was nothing short of paranoid.

"She calls us, we usually show up and find a goth kid hanging out by a cemetery or coffee shop," he said with a sigh.

"Jer mentioned she's been a little on the edge." Elena tapped the steering wheel. "Do you think I

should call him? I know he and Tyler haven't ever really been on the best of terms but...I think it would be good to have them both around."

Miss Gilbert and her unending understanding of others, bless her. She knew not to say it was for

protection, and spared him the feeling of inadequacy.

"It's a good idea."

She let out a sharp laugh. "I want that recorded for YouTube or something. You agreed with me."

He cracked open an eye. "I agree with you frequently, and not just to get into your pants."

Elena pressed the garage door opener button and steered the car into one of the open spaces, but did not make any move to exit the vehicle until the garage door shut again. Smart woman.

She went about grabbing her things from the car, and he could not hold back the question.

"I fucked up my chance, didn't I?" A wicked hangover was fine, but her rejection as a side order? He might have to pencil some more wallowing and possibly drinking into his schedule. The drinking was iffy.

Elena let out a slow breath and tore a hand through her hair, then stared straight ahead for a moment, clearly considering something. Probably the best way to let him down easily.

"I'm willing to chalk up tonight to forgetting how alcohol works," she finally said, slowly. "But

tomorrow night, you'd better skip the drinks." Then, she swung her door open and exited the car,

leaving Damon to stare at the now empty driver's seat.

"Wait," he said, drawing out the word as he extracted himself from the car, being careful not to disturb the delicate balance that the universe seemed to have for the evening.

She turned to him with a giddy smile. "Tomorrow night," she repeated. "When you take me out to dinner."

He stared, disbelieving.

"Goodnight, Damon!" she called as she let herself into the kitchen and the door shut.

It was some time before the man followed after her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Life Indefinite (4/17)  
**Author: ****strangelittleswirl**  
**Summary:** Post Season 1 AU. Damon's suddenly human, Katherine has threatened Elena, Bonnie is hesitant to help, and Stefan is unreachable. Elena's attempt at normal college existence is anything but.  
**Spoilers:** Season 1  
**Warnings:** Language, sex  
**Show/Bookverse:** Show 'verse, Season 1 only

**Disclaimer:**_The Vampire Diaries_ belongs to its rightful owners and sadly, none of those people or companies are me. I'm only borrowing them, but I promise to return them once I am finished.

**A/N:** As always, thank you to the lovelies of lovely betas, midnight_burn, because our own personal WriMo is the only reason this got written. Apologies for the hiatus!

* * *

At two in the morning, Elena hoped to be in bed, snuggled under her thick white duvet getting a good amount of sleep for the day ahead. Her textbooks for the next semester were due in, and she was blocking out part of her day to be able to start browsing through them. A perfect day before a date she had told Damon Salvatore he was taking her on.

Instead, at two in the morning, she found herself helping the aforementioned future date lug a vampire's crumbling body out of his trunk and across the yard, where her roommate waited to set it on fire. The three were tired, cranky, and one of them was hungover.

Bonnie had come flying out of her room when she had remembered, quickly waking up the other two before flying down the stairs. Damon shuffled out of his room and gave her a bleak look. She'd say he looked like death warmed over, but honestly, it was far too easy.

"Move," said the witch only seconds before lighting the body on fire. Elena sighed tiredly, but trudged over to the woodpile to collect for the nice little blaze they had going. This would make the fourth time they had to resort to a vampire bonfire in the backyard – Jeremy had brought bad company once, and the other three times had just been chalked up to shit luck.

Bonnie grabbed the beach chairs. They all settled into the seats to watch the fire.

Damon had been nursing the decaf coffee in a mug Bonnie had presented him, alternating it with sips from the water bottle beside him. After a short time of comfortable quiet, he rose, suddenly.

"I hate this whole 'peeing' thing," he grumbled and started to walk towards the woods. Elena leaned forward and grabbed the back of his pants. He twisted his head around and down, watching her expectantly.

"In the house, please. I'd rather find the toilet seat up than your body in pieces in the woods."

"I'll be fine," he said dismissively as he removed her hands from his back belt loop. Again, he trudged towards the tree line.

"You keep walking that way and you'll end up falling into the Hudson," Bonnie said in a helpful tone.

The Salvatore man petulantly walked back into the house. Elena waited until the door shut before fidgeting to face towards her best friend.

"You're going to be one of those parents that lets their kid get drunk once so they can learn how it feels and hate it, aren't you?" she asked with a grin. When Bonnie smiled reluctantly, she giggled. "If I ever have kids I am _never_ trusting them with Aunt Bonnie."

The witch yawned and shrugged. "If you want me to go make it for him, then I will. I guess it would save us both from all the whining he'll do, otherwise."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "As if he hasn't started already? You'd think he'd never thrown up before, the way he's been carrying on."

The sliding door was opened again and the third member scuffed his way out. Damon winced as he sat back down, scrunching his eyes against the bright light. He moaned and rubbed at his forehead.

"Bad?" asked the medical student. Elena could make out a thread of gleefulness in her voice.

His answer was a louder groan.

"I could go into all of the medical details as to why this is happening to your body, but I won't." Elena cast an appreciative glance heavenward, which her best friend pointedly ignored. "For a few minutes, watching you suffer seemed like the perfect way to end a shitty day," Bonnie admitted. The flames were starting to die down. She prodded at the fire by simply staring at it. "But now? Now, I feel sort of sorry for you. So I'm off to the kitchen."

They brought the chairs back into the garage after Elena made the precarious climb down the embankment to the water, where she dumped the ashes. She bid the other two goodnight and headed up the stairs.

Bonnie was now left in the kitchen, alone, with Damon. Making sure she avoided him in a wide arc, she went into the walk-in pantry to collect her supplies.

"Can I help you with anything?" he called. The witch fixed a drying bunch of rosemary with the confused look she would have given Damon then. When she emerged with her arms full of containers, he scrambled over to help. With his elbow, he shut the pantry door before placing the bottles on the counter for her. She gave him an appreciative nod before pulling out the bowls and tools she needed.

"Thank you for the offer, but brewing is not cooking."

"Well thank you for brewing and not cooking, then."

The mortar hit the counter with more force than necessary. "Okay, seriously? When are you going to give up this 'nice guy' act?" she demanded, and was spurred on by his dramatic, overly done, shocked expression. "We both know you're not this guy."

Frustration bloomed on his face, thinning his lips. His hands curled into fists on the counter top.

"'Not this guy'" he echoed, displeasure evident. "What do you want, Bonnie? Do you want me to be that monster you remember? How about some callous player who's going to break Elena's heart when I leave? If you haven't noticed, I've always aimed to please in the expectation department and have attempted to do the same since I got here. Didn't you feel just a little bit satisfied that you two had to come pick up my drunken ass?"

Bonnie had been preparing a flippant quip, some nasty barb that sat on her tongue waiting for him to take a breath, but guilt at the truthfulness of his question dulled it. She tried to calm herself before they had to extinguish a fire in the kitchen or bring Damon to the Burn Ward.

"You...you terrorized me, you've killed hundreds of people, you're to blame for Gram's death, and yet, you are this," she paused, her hands hovering in the air as she tried to explain the next concept, a move that caused her to wave around a sprig of peppermint, "this entirely different person with Elena. And I want to give that guy a chance, because Elena is so much more _herself_ with him. But how do I know that the Damon I remember isn't lurking in the shadows?"

"He is," he tersely replied. "Always will be. It's a part of me. I am not looking for you to understand or accept that, just don't give Elena a hard time if she can. That woman has had enough to deal with as is and she cares about your opinion. Seeing you alternate between encouraging and criticizing isn't winning _either_ of us brownie points."

She wanted to give him a cross look but had to toss her hair out of her face to do so as she ground the herbs. "I get that, and I would never do anything that I know would unnecessarily hurt her. She's my best friend."

He sagged in the chair and dropped his head back until it hit the back of the wooden chair. "I am too hungover for this futile argument," he muttered darkly. "My head hurts." Damon shifted until he was sitting back up. "Let's just agree that you and I both don't want to see her get hurt and call it a night, okay?"

"Fine," she snapped. All that was left for the hangover remedy was some peppermint to mask the taste.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I can't wait for Tyler to get here; you will be so much nicer once you're getting laid."

The peppermint remained in the bowl. She thrust the glass across the table. "Drink it up and don't throw up until you're over the toilet. In the morning you'll actually be able to function."

As she walked up the stairs to the sounds of someone retching, and since it wasn't a patient but Damon, she allowed herself a little smile.

* * *

Elena had not intended to start her day by standing in her underwear and a robe (she was not in a horror movie, thank you very much) holding a stake and staring at her brother. She would have rather been back up in Damon's bed, allowing activities to carry on. Actually, that had not really been something she had intended but she wasn't about to complain.

She'd gone in to Damon's room to wake him, as usual, and then the talking had led to kissing, and the kissing had led to...well, it had started to lead to something else, but then Bonnie had called in a panic to inform them that there was a fanged visitor and they weren't really expecting any.

"Dude, what is your problem?" yelped Jeremy, his hands up in a placating manner, the blood bag dangling in his grip.

Damon came hurtling into the room and bumped into Elena where she stood in the doorway to the kitchen. There was a stake in his one hand and a phone in the other. Elena heard him exhale loudly behind her before bringing the phone back up to his ear.

"Jeremy...No, we're all fine. Go take care of old people, Glinda the Good."

The man behind Elena dropped the phone into her robe pocket and put a hand on her shoulder. "Kid, anyone ever taught you manners? Let us know you're coming."

Her brother looked at them, obviously amused by something. "I texted Elena, but from the looks of it, you two were a little distracted."

Elena ran a hand through her hair, more than aware of how she probably looked at the moment. "It wasn't..." she trailed off, because honesty was something that the Gilbert siblings had agreed to, regardless of situation, and trying to refute what had obviously been underway would be as far from the truth as possible.

"I think I'm having a heart attack," muttered Damon with a hand on his chest. Elena fought the urge to do the same thing because there had been enough embarrassment in the last two minutes.

"It's probably just adrenaline or something...call Bonnie back up; I'm sure she'd know."

"Is this what you went through back then? Like, every time something happened? _How are you still alive_?" Damon asked, incredulous.

Elena shrugged. "Luck," she answered with a rueful smile before turning back to Jeremy, who was now openly staring at Damon as if confused and horrified at the same time. "Jer, something-"

"Is that – you have a heartbeat," her brother said in an accusatory manner, unoccupied hand pointing a finger at Damon. Elena couldn't help but eye the blood bag in the young vampire's precarious grip (it wouldn't be the first time she'd have to clean up after him but blood was a bitch to get out of the grout) even as he started to laugh. "You have a heartbeat."

"Yeah. Parting gift from a pissed off witch. As much as I would _love_ to rehash the entire thing, let's just skip to the part that involves you: Katherine is probably nearby and more than likely going to go after your sister. Think you could stick around for a while?"

Jeremy's lax posture straightened up and his face grew serious. Damon had earned the young man's respect and gratitude when he'd helped him transition, and Elena knew the boy looked up to him.

"Of course man. Do you want me to give you some of my blood, get you to...?" Jeremy trailed off when Elena shook her head.

"Won't work."

The grin on Jeremy's face stuttered but finally, he couldn't suppress it, and it took over his face. "So you're saying that-"

"Yes, kid. Exactly," Damon snapped. As an afterthought, he picked up the stake on the table. "Laugh and I'll use this."

Jeremy allowed his face to change, his eyes darkened and his grin became a little more feral. "You wouldn't have a chance," he retorted playfully.

Damon grabbed the duffel that sat by the door with a small grunt and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. "Keep it up and I won't help you."

"Don't worry about it." With a frustrating amount of cheerfulness, Jeremy took the duffel from him and started up the stairs.

Damon sighed and turned to Elena. "So are you sure you won't let me stake him?"

She grinned. "Just give him some time to settle in and I bet he'll decrease the jokes a bit."

"Yeah, instead of five times an hour, it will just be four." He closed the space between them and put his hands on her hips. "Now where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted?"

She answered him with a kiss which also served to shut up the protesting voice in her head (the kitchen had never been the location of any of her more lurid fantasies, and as much as she tried to roll with the punches, she had some standa-oh screw it, the boy could _kiss);_ her hands went to the waistband of his pajama pants to draw him closer, and one of his hands was starting a slow, lazy slide around to the tie of her robe.

"Oh, come _on_!" groaned her brother, who had just come tearing down the stairs in a blur of vampire speed. In his hands was the blood bag he had forgotten. "We eat in here!"

Damon gave a frustrated groan and leaned his forehead against Elena's. "No, seriously, Elena, are you sure you won't let me stake him?"

* * *

Something brushed against the threads of her magic, and it caused a prickling sensation to wash over her skin. Instantly, Bonnie's eyes lifted from the page she was reading, and while taking a sip from her coffee cup, her eyes scanned the library.

The voice came from next to her ear. "I'm looking for a really hot girl, 'bout your height, answers to the name 'My Girlfriend'. Seen her around?"

Bonnie nearly spit out her coffee. "Oh my God, Tyler!"

The books she had been holding with her other hand went tumbling down onto the surface of the library table, and the coffee almost ended up doing the same, if not for a last-minute save from the young man; she jumped into his arms.

There was a chorus of admonitions from the librarians but Bonnie ignored them and reintroduced her lips to her boyfriend's.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this, but maybe we can move this someplace else?"

Outside, sitting on Tyler's car, Bonnie kissed her boyfriend once more, long and slow and ending in the sort of beaming smile that she reserved only for him. "What are you doing here?"

"Damon said you needed a visit."

She refuted dryly: "That's not what he said, was it?"

Tyler scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, not exactly...but I'm here, I'm staying a while, and I'm taking you to dinner tonight."

Bonnie's smile faltered for a second. "Hang on, I have to check." She dove into her purse for her planner and flipped through. Tyler pulled a face.

"Can't you _not_ ride a broomstick tonight, just this once? I drove all the way up here to be with you."

At that moment, her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to read the text message sent from Damon. She grinned up at her boyfriend. "I know, and I'm so glad to see you...yes, dinner sounds fantastic."

She'd just leave out the part where they were bringing along Jeremy, just for now.

* * *

There was a knock on the study door, causing Elena to look up from the article she was reading over. Jeremy stood in the doorway.

"I think I'm going to head out for a little bit, scope out the area."

She nodded and nearly went back to reading, but the fact that her brother continued to hover in the doorway caused her to swivel around. "What's wrong?"

"How are you?" he asked, avoiding preamble as he sat on the edge of the chaise lounge. "I mean, really, how are you?"

She gave her brother an appreciative smile. "I'm okay, I mean, it's Katherine, so we don't really know what she's got planned, but..." Elena shook her head. "Now that we got you, a coven, and a werewolf-"

"Woah, what?" Jeremy sat up even straighter. "Lockwood?"

"Well, yes," Elena said slowly, frowning. "Jeremy, please don't tell me you two are still in that pissing match."

"We aren't on the best of terms."

Elena slumped in her chair. "I'm not asking you two to be best friends, I'm just asking you to tolerate one another's company. He'll only be up here for a short time, so just, just be _nice_, alright?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "You _so_ owe me."

She nodded. "I do," she replied, seriously, and sat next to her brother to give him a hug. "Thank you for coming, Jer."

He shrugged, still in the hug. "We got each other's back, 'Lena. That's what siblings do."

Elena held him a little more tightly. Siblings – Jeremy – shouldn't have had to.

* * *

"Thank God you're home." Elena took Bonnie's books from her and grabbed her hand. "I need you."

"Well, hello to you too, Elena," huffed Tyler from the doorway. Elena waved at him with her free hand, but continued to drag Bonnie up the stairs with her.

Damon wandered out of his room just in time to see Bonnie and Elena run past into Elena's room, and to greet Tyler.

"Hey man," Tyler said, giving him a brief head nod. "Damn, you smell funny."

Damon rolled his eyes. "And clearly the Southern Gentleman has died in the Lockwood family."

Elena's door slammed, cutting off a giggle from somewhere within. Damon and Tyler looked in its direction for a moment.

"Wonder what it is they do in there?" queried Tyler, and his question was met with a devilish smile.

"Oh, I wonder. I spend a lot of time wondering."

Jeremy, on his way to the kitchen, laughed. "It's probably _not_ what you think it is. Lockwood," he added as a way of pitiful greeting before starting down the stairs, not pausing to watch the newcomer's response.

"Just so you know, werewolves don't have laser vision," said Damon, upon noting the expression on the other man's face. "Give it a rest."

"You just want me to be nice to him because it betters your chances of getting laid."

"Partially," admitted the latter man who then fixed Tyler with a serious look. "Jeremy isn't the same self-absorbed emo kid you seem to mistake him for continuing to be so just _give it a rest_. God, you and your girlfriend are so judgey."

Bonnie came out of Elena's room and walked down the hall to Tyler's arms. "Sorry to interrupt your bromance," she started. Damon shrugged and gave her an impatient look.

"Babe," she said and looked up at Tyler. "Why don't we go out to dinner tonight?"

"And by that, she means you _three_ are going out," amended Damon. There was no way in hell he was finally getting Elena on a date, only to end up possibly dead via Katherine or some other pissed vamp before the appetizer. That phrase about dying happy? Figurative, or at least, he'd try to keep it that way for the time being.

Tyler started to protest, but Bonnie started to navigate him towards her bedroom and once he caught on, the fight went out of him.

Laughing to himself, Damon went about his business, knowing there was a vampire downstairs getting an earful he didn't want.

* * *

After Bonnie's intervention in her fashion emergency, and then the trio's awkward shuffle out the door, Elena nervously but quickly dressed for dinner. And it wasn't typical pre-date jitters, it was 'oh-God-I'm-about-to-have-dinner-alone-with-a-guy-I-think-I've-loved-for-a-really-long-time' jitters, and Elena was about two hyperventilating breaths away from puking.

Finally, when she felt like she was truly ready, she took a deep breath and started down the hallway and to the stairs. Nina Simone was playing again. Below, Damon was at the kitchen island, swirling around a glass of wine to test it; that was the cause of the intense look on his face, or nerves. But it couldn't be the second. It was _Damon_.

"Hi," she said softly, as to not spook him. Damon lifted his eyes from the glass to the direction of the stairs and seemed to freeze. Elena leaned against the banister and gave him a nervous smile. She had two lists in her mind for the evening; she really hoped she would only have to reference the first one

(-Get through dinner without spilling anything on herself

-Flirt shamelessly

-Drink wine

-Make appropriately evocative sounds while eating dessert

-End up in bed with Damon

-Not have to stake anyone)

but a second one was at the ready, should everything absolutely go horrifically wrong

(-Stake someone

-Run from room

-Pack bag

-Leave

-Buy parka

-Learn Russian

-Change name

-Move to Russia)

"Don't even start," he said, finding his voice. "You look beautiful."

She blushed; it wasn't the first time he'd said it to her, but...this was different. "You do, too. I mean-" She huffed and drew a hand through her hair, then said: "Can I help you with dinner?" She crossed the room to stand next to him and took the wineglass he was offering her. It didn't taste like the Two Buck Chuck they kept in the house; a moment later, over Damon's shoulder, she spotted a very expensive bottle sitting on the counter.

Damon studied her for a moment, as if doing a quick risk analysis of allowing Elena anywhere near a hot surface, and finally nodded.

He quickly retrieved an apron out of the pantry (must have been John's, seeing as the item's presence in their kitchen came as a major surprise to Elena) and made a noise of protest when she went to take it from him, even lifting it over his shoulder and out of her reach. Instead, he made her turn around.

The fabric loop was slipped over her head with a touching gentleness, and he drew her hair out of the way to tighten the fabric so it didn't drape in the front. His warm, talented fingers skimmed her waist as he crossed the waist ties around her twice before tying them at the small of her back. Elena tried to act like being dressed to cook food by a ridiculously hot man was a normal part of her daily life, but she spent a good portion of the time staring at his fingers and watching their work.

Finally, she turned around and faced him. "Okay," she said, a little more than breathless. "What's first?"

"Over here, please." She followed him over, steeling herself for whatever culinary work was to be asked of her.

His hand took hers gently, and he moved until he was directly behind her again.

At the feel of his warm lips on her neck, Elena closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath, then frowned when she realized which drawer he had guided her to pull open.

"Take out?" she asked, grateful. The last thing she wanted was some sort of mishap with kitchen equipment. When he laughed, she could feel it through her back.

"The Italian place in town is actually owned by people who know what they're doing, so I thought-" Damon stopped talking when she turned around and gave him a glowing smile. "What?"

"Thank you," she replied, and when her arms came to rest upon his shoulders, as if one action caused another, he placed his hands on her hips. "Thank you for this. It's like a normal date."

His eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. "If this is your definition of normal, then we have a problem."

* * *

Tyler had only started to pull out of the garage when he heard his girlfriend mutter "Shit" as she scrounged through her purse, and Tyler knew she wouldn't leave without it, so he parked the car once more. "I forgot my cell in the house."

Bonnie started to slip back out of the car and turned to look back into the vehicle. Tyler wasn't entirely happy about having to sit alone, awkwardly, in the car with Gilbert, but he'd deal with it.

The displeasure must have shown on both of their faces. Bonnie groaned.

"Can you two _try_ not to kill each other in the next five minutes? I'd appreciate that."

They both watched Bonnie run back into the home

"I saw some of your work," Tyler admitted. Jeremy's scowl softened. "Your stuff is pretty good, dude.

The scowl struggled to hold on. "Uh, thanks." He fiddled with his ring for a moment. "Saw your stuff too. Your perspective was really good, perfect I thought."

"Why didn't you do it? Go into comics, I mean." Tyler twisted fully around to face Jeremy, who appeared perplexed.

"Vampire, remember? That sort of-"

Tyler shook his head. "It means nothing," he said, seriously. "You can still draw, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Sunlight ain't a problem, so nothing's stopping you. I've got a friend with a – okay, I'm a part of it, too – we've got a comic book start up, and it really wouldn't take much for me to convince him we should use your stuff."

"Does this friend get really bitchy and incredibly furry once a month?" asked the vampire with a growing grin, to which Tyler shrugged.

"So what if he does? So what if you need some ugly bling to walk out in the sunlight? Talent is talent."

Bonnie chose that moment to walk back out the front door, happy to see Damon and Elena were so preoccupied in the kitchen that they didn't notice her sneak back in and out. She was just able to make out the sight of her boyfriend laughing and shaking hands with Jeremy Gilbert.

By the time they hit the main road, the two were chatting away at a mile a minute.

_Great,_ thought Bonnie to herself as she rolled her eyes, _a vampire stole my boyfriend._

* * *

The food arrived quickly, and they dumped the containers into bowls without much ceremony before taking it into the dining room, which had been lit by candles ("Thank witchy poo").

"For the rest of the night," Damon declared while holding up his wine glass, "there will be no discussion of anyone with fangs, powers, or machinations that potentially include our deaths. Tonight, we are just going to talk about...,"as he trailed off, the frown grew on his face. "Shit, what will we talk about?"

Elena finished chewing what was in her mouth – quite the feat, as she had nearly choked due to stifled laughter. "That's a very good question...books? Television? Our weird neighbors?" The most recent movie night had been Damon's first, and they had a bet that there had been more stakes with them than the entirety of _Buffy's_ prop department for its entire run. The fact that the three young adults had spent the time indiscreetly "twitchy", as one moviegoer put it, had meant weary glances from their neighbors. The 'weirdness' of the Gilbert-Bennet residence was well documented but not discussed in the surrounding area, and would inevitably continue to be the topic of discussion behind their closed doors.

"The neighbors are _totally_ freaks."

"I think that we give them reason enough for the holy water," she said with a laugh, and then they launched into a conversation about everything and nothing that lasted for the duration of the meal.

* * *

Marcus Reeves jogged down the steps of the Mathematics building, the key to his professor's office in his grip, his bag full of papers to look over and books of his own to cite for a paper. Being that particular professor's TA was known as a job from hell, but he liked it. After unlocking his bike from the rack, he seated his lanky self upon it and peddled towards the entrance of the university. When he reached the spot where the university's entrance road intersected the public street, he stopped. As usual, a tiny voice in his head told him to turn towards Tom's Landing, a strange little voice that had niggled him over the last few years, and he always ignored it. Damn thing was the reason he half considered applying to the University of Virginia for his undergraduate degree. With all the animal attacks in the nearby area however, he had decided to play it safe and come back North, to home. It was the safer thing to do.

Safety: Marcus liked safety. He liked to surround himself with it, hence the safety vest with the reflective tape on its back, and his helmet. Didn't matter that he lived down the street, he wasn't taking chances. Hence why he liked math. Nice, cold, hard, unbiased math.

Not to say he didn't have fun There was that party he'd gone to a while ago and he'd woken up the next morning feeling like something really _big_ had happened, despite the fact he couldn't exactly remember events that would make him feel that way.

He tired to remember the details, but, as usual, he found it impossible. Normally, this was because he really had no recollection of whatever it was. This time had something to do with a F150 hurdling around a corner, swerving to avoid a student who had just run out into the street to catch a Frisbee before driving onto a curb and eventually hitting Marcus, who was still in the middle of fiddling with his helmet.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to my beloved beta midnight_burn for her assistance and encouragement. Also, this would have been on LJ first, but the servers are being quite persnickety right now.

Disclaimer: Own none of it, because if I did, it would be years in between episodes and we'd all be going through even more painful withdrawal.

* * *

"Stop the car!" came out of Bonnie's mouth in such a shriek that Tyler reacted to the sound rather than the words. Jeremy's quick grasp at the head rests in front of him kept him from flying through the windshield.

"Bonnie, what the fu-Bonnie!" Tyler called after his girlfriend, who had taken off in the direction of the flashing lights. About a block before the university's entrance, the traffic had been stopped, and he could just make out his girlfriend's shape as she sprinted towards the scene.

An icy, horrific panic had taken over Bonnie at that second, and even if Tyler hadn't stopped the car, she would have sprung from it. Frantically, she started to push through the throng of people who had gathered. A pickup truck was sitting on the lawn of the school, and where was the driver? She sighted him standing to the side. There was someone else on the ground, and she tried not to scream, oh God, he was- she had to get -

"Bonnie." Tyler's hand shot between two crowd members and grabbed her arm. The panic disappeared and she suddenly realized how inexplicably hysterical she had been acting.

"Tyler, I-I'm not sure why I just..." she trailed off as she watched an EMT rig arrive.

"Do you know him?"

Bonnie couldn't really get a clear look but off the top of her head she couldn't think of anyone she knew from this particular university. "I don't think so."

"Then why did you just take off like that?" Tyler asked as they continued to walk back.

"I don't know, okay?" she spat as they reached the car.

Back in the car, the driver eyed the person in the front passenger seat wearily, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the ambulance as it left in the direction of the hospital. The hospital where she worked, where it would head to the ambulance bay...

"Oh my God, I think I...Tyler, we need to go to see Laura."

* * *

The entire night had been comfortable, with nothing that had caused Elena to jump to her emergency plans. They had reminisced about her travels abroad, and his part in them. They had cleaned up from dinner in companionable silence. Elena kept waiting for Damon to make one of his classic moves, but it never came.

So by the time they had finished cleaning up and had started up the stairs, they both seemed ill at ease.

"I guess this is goodnight, then," she said begrudgingly as they faced each other in the intersection of the hallways. Damon leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets, nodding curtly.

"Guess so."

It was painfully silent as they turned and walked away from one another. Finally, Elena couldn't handle it anymore. Not that she was...okay, yes. Yes, she _totally _had expected the evening to head in a very different direction, one that involved a bed and lots of fantastically strenuous activities that would have lead to Damon having an appreciation for the fact that Elena had been keeping up yoga for flexibility.

She spun on her heel and advanced on him. "Okay, so what just went wrong?"

"'Wrong'?" he echoed smoothly as he crossed his arms. "Why do you think something went wrong?" But she knew him too well to _not_ see he was upset.

_Because we are not headed to the same bedroom, and this hasn't started to resemble a porno yet_. Her mind raced for a more eloquent way of phrasing it as she made a show of crossing her arms. It didn't come to her. So then she just said what she was thinking.

"Are you serious?" he asked, voice hitting a high she didn't expect. "All it would have taken was one word from you and this could have gone differently."

"'One word'? Which one would that be?" she countered.

"I don't...oh, fuck this," he growled. "Elena, all night I was waiting for some sort of sign from you that you wanted things to go in _that_ direction, and it never came."

She was dangerously close to stomping a foot. "What sort of sign were you looking for?"

"A sign you weren't hesitating, or running, or ignoring this thing between us. A sign you'd changed."

Elena gaped.

* * *

The expansive front lawn had been destroyed and paved over. At any time, a wide variety of cars could be seen parked in it, with several college bumper stickers; a few even had facetious 'My other car is a broomstick' decals. The gardens beyond, slightly overgrown, were home to many medicinal herbs and flowers.

And inside? Well, inside was predominantly chaos.

There was always a meeting going on; the electricity flickered constantly; ghosts of dead witches moved aimlessly from room to room; there was the persistent, lingering smell of something just burnt. At the heart of this magical nebula of activity was Laura Rosenthal.

With bright red hair as frazzled as she felt, a hapless sprinkle of freckles on her nose, and blue eyes always taking on the quality of a deer's in front of a car, Laura looked every bit the overworked teenager she was, having recently inherited the coven's leadership position from her deceased parents. Bonnie applauded her resilience thus far, but knew the strain was starting to take its toll, and had tried to support the fellow premed student as best she could.

Bonnie had the foresight to call in advance, to let the coven know a vampire and a werewolf were coming to the property. Tyler said he'd wait in the car – a tactic she knew he hoped would keep his girlfriend from becoming entirely sucked into coven matters – while Jeremy tagged along. Laura was waiting at the door, a watchful eye on Jeremy as they approached.

"Jeremy is a friend, Laura. I promise."

Laura nodded curtly, but turned on her heel without any sort of attempt to invite him in.

Bonnie, embarrassed, turned to her friend, who shrugged.

Jeremy shook his head. "I get it, it's cool." His eyes swept over the painted wood and the planters before he turned back around. "Nice porch."

The petite witch whispered a nearly silent apology, knowing he would hear, and then followed her leader in. "If you knew I was coming it must be bad. Do you know who was in the accident?"

Laura cast a nervous glance in the direction of the porch before ushering her into the quiet room that was her office. "Actually I was just about to call you," she admitted, then frowned. "Wait, what accident?"

* * *

"My brother isn't even here, so you're not hesitating over that. It's finally me, just me, and you _still_ can't just decide, can't just choose me." The lines of his shoulders tensed, and his eyes hardened, a scowl forming on his lips.

To Elena, it felt like the beginning of a storm, the energy was so strong. It didn't matter, even if she felt the warning. Damon brought out a side of her that was outspoken, passionate...stronger.

"You can be..." she breathed and tried to find a way to put it kindly, but she was past niceties. There had never been niceties between them; there was no room for them. "You can be such an _idiot_ at this, Damon Salvatore. There's more than one reason for me to _think_ before I jump into this with you. Did you think that I might not be a little scared, too? I'm petrified. Not of you, but of being with you...I'm scared of us. Because you and I have always been connected in ways I've spent three years trying to understand. And I can't. I've tried!"

He stared at her.

"Please say something," she begged, her heart beating far too fast to be healthy.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked hoarsely, as if the air had been wrenched from him.

"Because I was _scared_, and I knew I wasn't ready. I'd just broken up with your brother, and I realized I'd focused my attention on him instead of grieving the loss of my parents, or focusing on my brother or the fact that I'd just found out I was adopted...In the span of a year, my whole life changed five times over. I know you," she said, feeling confident in the fact enough to reach out and take his hand. "You would have blamed yourself..."

She could hear him swallow, just make out muscles in his neck working with the motion. Finally, she charged on.

"I wanted us to have a real chance, and I hoped I'd have a little time to grow up, so I could be good for me, you, for _us_."

She went to wipe at one of the traitorous tears now rolling down her cheek, but he beat her to it, and it gave her hope that grew with the gentle pressure of his thumb on her skin.

Another strong hand rose to cradle her head, to frame her face, and to draw her close for a delicate, incredible kiss. As he watched her face below thick lashes, his thumbs brushed more of her tears away. "You know this continues along the lines of abnormal first date dialogue, right?"

"Fuck normal," she said bluntly as she put a hand around his neck, bringing him closer to her lips. "I don't want normal, I want you."

His eyes seemed to regain their sparkle, and the smile that spread across his face was one she could feel in her chest. "I don't think you could possibly begin to fathom how much it means to me to hear those words," he said quietly, then straightened up. "I mean, most people might be a little turned off by the whole 'Fuck normal' thing, but-"

She tasted the words on the tip of his tongue, and whispered "Show me."

When he said her name, it was in a hoarse whisper, and they both closed the space between then, letting lips meet and hands wander. Finally, when her legs were weak and the only thing that was keeping her up was Damon's firm grip at her waist, she pulled away and took a tripping step backwards, towards her room, trying to pull him along.

"Come with me," she whispered, despite the fact the house was empty, save for the pair. Regardless, it felt like what was about to happen (rather, what she hoped would happen) was something they'd been headed towards for a long time, and _God_, she wanted to feel him, _all_ of him. She'd had a few dates over the years since she'd left Mystic Falls and yes, a few of them had led to crumpled and co-occupied sheets, but Damon?

This was something else, entirely. And while she was just terrified as he was, she had wanted this for so long, part of her wanted to take a running start for the bedroom.

Finally, after a moment where he didn't move, her stomach plummeted, and she feared she had read the situation incorrectly.

And then she was trapped between her bedroom door and, well, a hard place. Not that she minded. She pressed into him and enjoyed the groan that came from Damon's mouth where it was pressed to her neck.

"_Bedinthere,"_ she rushed to say between kisses, and tried to tell herself – _move, hand! - _to reach behind her for the door. Not that it was working. As if it was a separate entity from herself, her hand continued to try to pull the man closer to her.

His breath was hot in her ear. "Who said anything about a bed?" he quipped just before he slid her higher up against the door and ran a hand down her thigh, hitching it around his waist. The friction made her take a shuddering gasp.

The sound of the door being slammed open could have been an explosion. "Damon!" hollered Tyler.

Elena was rather proud of herself; she did _not_ burst into tears. Damon's head bowed and came to rest on her shoulder and the surface of her door, contact with the latter resulting in a dull _thud_.

"I will kill them," she declared resolutely. The dark-haired man who was holding her against the door eased her back onto her feet.

"That used to be my line," he said before giving her a kiss, ensuring that only their lips touched; it was a firm one, however, as if to promise her 'later'. "Give me a second, I'll be right there."

"We could ignore them," she suggested helpfully.

"I can hear you, you know," came Jeremy's answer at the bottom of the stairs.

Elena stomped down the stairs. "This better be good, guys," she declared, hands on her hips.

Tyler laughed. "That might be intimidating if you didn't look like that."

"Ignore the mutt," sighed Damon after appearing beside her at the bottom of the stairs. "You look fine."

And as if to prove his point, he ran a hand through her hair and then gave her forehead a kiss. "My hair was horrible, wasn't it?" She felt that it was standing up.

"Little bit."

Jeremy was looking anywhere but in their direction, whereas Tyler was giving Damon a glaringly obvious thumbs up. Bonnie came charging in.

"...outside of the house, I've tried both. Yeah. I know." Bonnie had the cell phone pinched between her shoulder and her jaw, one hand holding a map, and the other dangling a crystal over it. Abruptly, she stopped and glared at the air in front of her. "No, I didn't study for the exam next week. Can we focus on one major crisis at a time? Yes-yeah. You sure? Really, totally, completely, Laur? Well in that case, I'm sorry I wasted the coven's time. Of course we'll be helping out with the October party."

Tyler groaned, and she reached out an elbow to stick him in the gut as her conversation continued. "Yes. Thank you."

She pushed the unfolded map and crystal into Jeremy's hands and ended the phone call with such a squeeze to the 'end' button, Elena knew she was imagining it was someone's throat. Then, she noticed Elena and Damon by the stairs and instantly, her pursed lips stretched into a smile.

"Got some really good news."

"You've found a spell to help you grow?" Damon deadpanned, and then Elena could see that Bonnie was magically holding his mouth shut by the movement of his jaw.

"Why don't we all sit down to talk?" asked Elena diplomatically, and they all shuffled into the other room.

Freed from Bonnie's hold, Damon muttered something involving the words 'witchy poo' and 'midget'.

The witch glared for a moment before turning to her best friend. "Europe," she announced with a flourish. "She's in Europe. Turns out Rebecca from the coven has an aunt who is part of a German coven with a vendetta against Katherine-"

Jeremy started to hum _Flight of the Valkyries_ under his breath, prompting a snicker from the werewolf.

"-And they've been tracking her every step for the last 30 years. She's in Bulgaria right now, and has been for more than three months."

Elena frowned. "But she told Damon-"

"She was fucking with me, and it _worked_." The frustrated man's eyebrows knitted together as he considered what that fact meant, and Elena felt an incredible sense of guilt.

"Damon, I'm so-"

"Don't," he said sharply, head rocketing up and off the back of the sofa. "She knew I'd come and that bitch set it all up. You have no fault in this – and that sort of thinking is why you got along with my brother like two martyred peas in a guilt-ridden pod."

To be perfectly honest, she was a little taken aback by the outburst, but knew where it came from.

Jeremy snorted. "As if no one saw _that_ elephant in the room."

"Shut up Jeremy," Damon, Elena, and Bonnie said in unison.

After chucking a throw pillow at her brother, Elena tried to get them back on track. "What else, Bonnie?" Askance, she watched Damon's pensive but furious face.

"Well if she isn't in town, we can make sure it stays that way. There's all sorts of blocking spells we could to make sure she doesn't show up. And since we don't have to spend time looking for Katherine, we can focus time on breaking the curse."

"Don't bother," said the man on the couch next to Elena, to which all of them protested.

"Damon, Bonnie is trying to get you back to normal," said Tyler slowly, as if Damon had not understood.

"'Back to normal'?" he echoed. "I am – was – a vampire. All I'm saying," he continued breezily with a roll of his eyes, and it was then Elena knew he was about to lie through his not-so-fanged teeth, "is that Bonnie and her cauldron groupies don't need to waste their time. If you haven't found anything yet, then you probably won't."

"But it could be _years,_" stressed Jeremy, real fear showing on his face. "You'd be stuck like that, growing old."

"They say 'the best revenge is a life well lived'." Elena caught his glance in her direction under his lashes. "And I've got some good company."

"Whatever, man," Tyler exhaled loudly as he wrapped an arm around Bonnie's waist. "Me and my lady friend are going to go get some shut eye. Elena, Damon," he said, and then turned to the Gilbert male. "Jeremy."

"Night," he said with a nod, causing both people on the couch to watch the civil spectacle, incredulous. Jeremy turned to them and raised his shoulders defensively. "What? Turns out Tyler Lockwood isn't a total douche. I'm gonna go heat up my dinner, since I was so rudely interrupted by an MVA and all this bizzaro crap."

Elena murmured a 'goodnight' and turned to Damon, who was watching her closely.

"Are you really okay about this?" she asked, tearing a hand through her hair, which only made the rat's nest worse. Damon pulled her fingers away and tucked the strands behind her ear, smoothing it down before taking her hand.

"Very." But then his voice changed, softened. "Why, do you think I shouldn't?"

And she knew what he was really asking. A few months ago, the hardest decision of her day was picking take out for dinner and now this?

"I thought this was sort of something you would try to avoid, or correct."

He looked down at their intertwined fingers, studying them, as if there were answers there. When he finally spoke, he spoke slowly. "It's not that I don't want to be human – I do. Fuck, I've wanted it for...since my heart stopped beating. And while I bitch and moan on a daily basis, I'm _scared_."

His eyes were painfully bare then, the expression on his face too earnest, even in the dim light that filtered through the window. She waited, silently, for him to continue; in truth, she had wondered over the years about his true feelings on the subject, had considered the fact that some of his anger towards Stefan had stemmed from that lack of control in his immortality.

"I'm scared because this is something I've wanted – wished for with my whole undead heart – and I have it. Do you understand how fucking rare this is for me? I'm waiting for someone to come busting through the door and tell me this was all some sort of joke."

He licked his lips and tore a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. "I don't want to fuck this up between us. I want...there are things now, things I might be able to have, and I don't want to start really considering them if I'm going to wake up tomorrow with fangs and a 24/7 hankering for blood. I know we aren't – I don't want to jump the gun, but I've waited for so long and...you are..."

He was floundering under the weight of what was there, and she could no longer remain silent. Elena helped to shoulder some of it as well when she gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Damon, I promise. My feelings for you aren't going to change if...if you change, okay? I want this, I want _you_."

Well, she'd already admitted that she'd been doing the denial dance, three years extended version. So while she was in the vicinity of wince-worthily naked life choices, why not tell him how she really felt?

"No," she finally said, and with conviction. "No, I think it could be a really good choice."

"Do you want me too?"

"Damon..."

"Do. You. Want. Me. To?" he relentlessly repeated, pausing to allow the impact of every word.

"Yes, yes I do. I really, really want you to. I do."

Elena Gilbert had always tried to be practical, tried to make lists and push life in boxes she could stack and lock up, but Damon Salvatore was a part of her life that couldn't be ignored. There truly were no assurances for what was to come, but she had a feeling that having Damon beside her meant she'd be able to stand whatever came their way.

And so they sealed their fate with a kiss.

* * *

The walk to her bedroom was wordless, the silence finally broken by the quiet, steady chords of "Lilac Wine" as he turned on the stereo and she locked the door.

"Not taking any chances?" he quipped, and she shook her head before joining him by her stereo, wrapping her arms around his sturdy torso, her head coming to rest between his shoulder blades. Part of her was afraid this was all a dream. He continued for a moment to make a halfhearted perusal of her music collection, before turning to her with a sigh that could only be described as 'content'.

They swayed slightly, more pressure against one another than dance, but it didn't last long. Damon maneuvered them back towards the bed. His fingers skimmed her curves, detouring in the small of her back to draw her closer, hip to hip, then rose to seek the zipper.

The heat that radiated off him was incredible, and he watched her with dark eyes as her fingers slipped his shirt buttons open, revealing smooth, well-muscled skin that she ran her hands over.

"I didn't notice how tan you've gotten." Strange to say but true, the light gold skin was a shock to her, so used to picturing his pale complexion.

When he laughed, she could feel it beneath her fingertips. "I spend most of my time indoors, but I guess anything is an improvement." The calloused pads of his fingers were stroking the now-exposed skin on her back; despite the delicious distraction, she shook her head.

"Not an improvement, just...just different."

The smile he gave her was brilliant. The kiss they shared was needy. The expression on his face when she slipped out of her dress-awe, desire-was one she would keep with her for the rest of her life.

When they took that shuffled step back, and the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, her already weakening legs gave out and she started to pitch backward. There was nothing to fear, because Damon had his arms around her.

And she had already fallen, anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Words:** 6,348

**A/N:** Thank you to midnight_burn for her speedy beta-ing; any mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer:** Vampire Diaries isn't mine, le sigh.

* * *

**T**he fact that it was Saturday came to Elena's mind secondary to the realization that she wasn't alone in her bed. Damon still appeared to be unconscious from the night before; his features were relaxed and his bed head - and she was happy to know she'd helped to contribute to its unruliness – was dark against the stark white of her sheets. She would have rather gone back to sleep (or remained awake and watching him like the Damon Salvatore-obsessed freak she was), but her bladder had other plans. She grabbed her robe and started to slip it on.

She made it almost entirely to the bathroom.

"Miss Elena Gilbert, I notice that your sense of modesty has made a tardy appearance."

She turned and looked back at the tangled mess of sheets and the man who had helped cause them. It appeared his modesty had taken a vacation - probably some two hundred years ago or so. With his arm out, head propped on fist, and a smile that could only accurately be described as sinful, he was making it very hard to remember why she had gotten out of bed in the first place. Her eyes traveled farther down his smooth, muscled contours. Speaking of hard...

Why did she have a feeling her mental to-do lists were going to start having to be written on paper?

Even the feelings of desire that he stirred in her were soon no match for the pressure on her bladder, and she scurried into the bathroom as quickly as possible. He whined. She threatened to pee on him.

Apparently, there were kinks even Damon wasn't willing to try, and he let it pass.

Washing up after she finished, she spared a glance in the mirror and had to do a double take. Her hair was messy in that realistic 'I just shagged in the sheets' sort of way (not the glamorous kind people had in films and on television), and her lips were swollen. There was a hickey on her neck. Her eyes sparkled. Considering it was all courtesy of Damon, she'd never looked better.

He took a turn in the bathroom after her, and then came back to keep her company in her bed.

Several rounds later (Elena was starting to wonder if he broke her brain, but Dear God, what a way to go), the duet being sung by their growling stomachs was too loud to ignore and they figured it was time to make an appearance downstairs.

Yes, she was totally aware of what would happen when they arrived in the kitchen: Bonnie would give her the look that translated to "We are _so_ talking about this" in a delicious, best friend sort of way; Tyler would make some sort of macho comment about Damon's accomplishment; Jeremy would continue to try that vampire-blank thing that he just couldn't pull off.

Despite knowing exactly what would greet them, they soon shuffled down.

Just like that, life changed.

They were even Facebook official.

It was a little jarring to observe how quickly they all fell into a routine. Damon would wake up and start 'doing money stuff', as Elena sleepily referred to it one morning, on his laptop, sitting up in bed beside his girlfriend until she woke. With the economy what it was, he was more cautious about his investments and he wasn't relying on his day-trader as much anymore. They typically made it out of the bedroom in time to share morning coffee with Bonnie (who was always the first out the door and therefore the coffeemaker - as Damon put it 'she couldn't cook for shit but they all knew she could brew'), Jer, and Tyler (the latter two often disappearing into the first floor library-cum-studio to work on some new idea).

Which left Damon and Elena free to do as they pleased until she left for class, and as of late, skipping was something she kept seriously considering. Attendance policies in her college courses were something she followed with religious conviction; they had only let her graduate high school thanks to a certain Salvatore's 'silver-tongued persuasion' - bullshit that Elena could call from ten paces, but still thank him for.

"You should enroll in a class or something," she mumbled from inside the shirt she was hastily throwing on one morning.

"So we could have sex in between lectures? I like the way my girlfriend thinks."

Elena's own course load was easy, predominantly elective classes to fill requirements. Tom's Landing was still a sleepy town, outside of its traditional celebrations, and so there was always a steady stream of quiet but amusing festivals to go to, and for her to write on for the paper. She even managed to drag Damon to a handful of the (typically produce) themed festivals on the town's old Main Street. But none of the activities were done without at least a little weariness, and a pocket with a stake and vervain... or 'Vervace', as they'd taken to calling it.

At some point between Jeremy's arrival and the first signs of October's chill, Damon's boredom got the better of him. When managing the vast array of Salvatore finances and 'catering to his girlfriend's every sexual whim' (his words, not hers) were not enough, he ventured out with Jeremy to a local scrapyard.

And that's how the old Trans Am ended up in her garage.

It was a rickety shell of a car, and would require countless hours of work. Jeremy had helped their father with his Camero, and so he quickly took over the role of Damon's assistant in the repair process. Although Tyler – who had never had a car that was less than brand new – had no real knowledge, he was enthusiastically helping too. Elena and Bonnie rolled their eyes but soon gave up when they realized that their garage was now a pretend auto shop.

Despite Laura's apparent distrust of the vampire (Bonnie said she had reason), her initial misgivings must have been mollified, because Jeremy was going over to hang out at the coven's headquarters. His increasing lack of time meant that Tyler's offer to assist was becoming beneficial.

"Persistence like that can translate into stalking," quipped Damon one day while they were having coffee. Jeremy shrugged.

"Worked for you, didn't it?" he called over his shoulder on his jaunty way out the door.

There had been no issues back home in Mystic Falls – despite years away from the Virginia town, Elena could never deny that it was still home to her. Graduation was starting to sort of be around the corner, and her apprehension was building. During the first week in October she was assigned a visit with the career counselor and she returned from it in a manic state.

Damon walked in from the garage to wash up only to find Elena tearing her closet apart. Her half, at least. At some point in the first few weeks of dating, the pair had noticed just how cavernous her walk-in closet was and by the end of the evening, it was the new and happy home to several John Varvatos tees. Not the best start of truly sleeping together and sharing a room, but when a person's life was predominated by supernatural creatures, secret adoptions and magic, they grasped at 'practical' any way they could.

"Nothing I own says "working girl", she declared with her hands on her hips and an accusatory glare at the closet.

"You're lingerie drawer says otherwise," he refuted, but sidled over to press a kiss to her temple as she rolled her eyes at him. "But in all seriousness, why would it? You're not one of either kind. You have no reason to be, babe."

Bringing up the amount of money in her bank accounts left her feeling queasy, but he was correct. Unlike most people her age, bills and loans, living paycheck to paycheck...they weren't things she had to worry about. She'd come from a wealthy background, and gained a small fortune from her biological father, as well as a completely paid-for house. She had already started donating small but steady amounts to a few charities, both local and larger. So long as she didn't make any foolish investments or purchases, she'd continue to be wealthy for a good, long time.

What was she going to _do_ with herself? Go around and teach Vamp Slayer Workshops? Bonnie could give her contacts at the other covens. Damon would be a great assistant, eye candy-wise...would he even want to?

Have a future with her, she meant. The 'How to Stake a Vamp' was all ridiculous hypothesizing.

And almost as if he could read her mind – sometimes she seriously wondered – he picked up papers form the bedside dresser on his side and handed them to her.

"Speaking of money, I'm enrolled and starting in the spring."

The brunette woman looked down at the paperwork in her hands. Bastard had finagled his way into some very choice classes and had somehow received credit for quite a number of pre reqs. She'd bet her pair of Choos that Jeremy was involved.

"Well they were certainly generous with the credits they awarded you," she commented, and he shrugged.

"Been there, done that...several times over. I'd wanted to go to school when I was alive the first time, so I did it a couple of times over the years to make up for the missed opportunity." The expression on his face grew wicked. "The college campus scene in the 60s and 70s? Now _that_ was fun. Lots of feminists declaring their independence by screwing anything with a pulse-"

"-Or not," she amended with a knowing look. Her boyfriend had slept with more women than the number of people she had ever known in her entire life, and there was no use getting upset about his fickle ways in the past. It wasn't like they weren't having copious amounts of sex. The longest they had gone without was four days, and that was because Damon had taken a trip back to Mystic Falls to check in with Ric.

And that didn't even really count, anyway. Phone sex? Not as difficult as she had thought prior. And sexting? A little juvenile but fun.

Back to today's newest piece of information. She perused the list of courses he'd selected. "You have more money than God, I'd think you knew enough about it."

"Hmm, true, but now I've got bigger concerns than just cars and clothing. Health insurance, I have discovered, is a bit pricey. And I want to make sure we're set."

She'd ignore that. Well, she wouldn't. She'd wait until she was by herself and then try to decode infinite layers of meaning that the phrase could translate to, and wig out over any and all of them. But in a very 'Woman with a grip on things' sort of way. The avoidance dance was not entirely forgotten.

She bought him a college tee-shirt the following day. Maybe the thing was cheaper than anything he'd worn in the last decade or so, but she knew he would understand the meaning.

Damon Salvatore was sticking around, and she was more than happy to have him with her.

* * *

**I**t was cold – but then again it wasn't.

Marcus couldn't really feel anything (or see for that matter), but he _imagined_ it ought to be cold. He was dead, right?

"No you're not," said a voice beside him. It was an older woman. "And open your eyes. You look ridiculous."

He was in a lobby, and there was a door leading to an exit behind him (it was awfully bright, and he'd rather not turn around to see), and a waiting room behind a glass door in the opposite direction.

The woman at his side didn't look very dead, or angelic, or hellish. Just impatient. She was older than him by fifteen years or so. She was wearing a skirt that made him think of gypsies, and a shirt that sported sheer sleeves with twisting, thorny patterns on them. Her hair was long and there were shots of gray in its voluminous auburn frizz. He regarded her wearily upon seeing her chunky, loud jewelry. The last detail made him imagine shops that sold hemp gear and smelled of patchouli. And those rainbow bear bumper stickers.

"You're not supposed to be here," she accused.

"Where is here, anyway?"

"In between," she answered tersely. "But it doesn't matter, because you're not supposed to be here."

He gave her a dubious look. "How would you know?"

"They said so in the waiting room. But you ended up here, anyway."

"So I'm not dead?" he asked hopefully. Better to get back to his flesh-and-bones, and his papers to grade.

"In between."

"So they'll be sent me back, right?" Whoever 'they' were. He was a numbers man, and he'd kept his nose out of religion for an awfully long time, and a near-brush with dead didn't seem an occasion to change that perspective.

The woman shook her head and huffed. "Well _they_ can't, but I can. Somewhat. I think I've got enough juice in me to be able to get you through."

Juice? "Er, thanks."

She pushed up her sleeves and after sparing a glance over her shoulder, gave him a serious, determined look. "You have to just do one thing for me: I need you to take back a message, and I need you to deliver it to Damon Salvatore."

* * *

**T**hey brought the boy in through the ER, but after it was obvious he wasn't waking as they went about stabilizing him, they ran the tests and admitted him to the coma ward. To make it easier for the nurses, they placed Marcus in the room next to their only other patient.

The nurse sighed, guilty at the relief that flooded him when he the patient had up-to-date contact information, and a mother on the way. They were still searching for someone for Parisi.

* * *

**C**onsider it a first: Damon and Elena were standing in their bathroom, having a conversation, and they were fully clothed.

Elena was pinning up her hair and he was leaning against the door frame, watching her. It was more interesting than anything on TV, in his opinion. Of course, Elena Gilbert _blinking_ was more interesting to him than most things, but still.

Yeah, that could probably translate to 'whipped', but that was on the list of things that Damon Salvatore Does Not Do. Sure, give him another week or two and if she asked, he'd probably do her tampon run, no sexual favors needed, and sure, that could be seen as a sign that she had him by his short-and-curlies.

But he wasn't whipped. Really.

Not that sex was need to convince one another to do anything – at the rate they were going, Tom's Landing and its surrounding area would be having a condom outage. But if there was anything they were religious about, it was that.

Alright, the words 'condom' and 'religious' that close together was a little too much for him, too.

Still, Bonnie was a nose-twitch away from making him dead, and neither Elena nor Damon were ready for kids.

Yet.

Huh. 'Yet'. He hadn't meant to, but his thoughts had gone that way.

"What is it?" asked Elena, while watching him in the mirror. Her hands worked to smooth the flyaways back towards the bun.

He shrugged. "Thinking," he simply answered. Because lying wasn't an option and it really wasn't the time to ask her opinion of potentially fathering his spawn. A weird idea...that he was warming to.

Distraction time.

Pushing off the wall, he sidled over and picked up the clump of hair that had been sitting on the counter. He took care to get the clump of hair at the back of her neck into the mesh netting before stretching the front edge to sit a little before her hairline (Rockette. '74. Those high kicks certainly left a girl flexible – did he mention that he _loved_ that Elena did yoga?).

"Blond again," he noted while tugging on the hair.

"Only for the night," she replied, then gave him an impish look. "But it _could _stay on...later."

God help him, he'd turned Elena into a raging nymphomaniac.

After ducking to lay a kiss on her neck, he helped her remove her terrycloth robe. The thin white shirt she wore beneath had a 'Merlotte's'' patch on one side and he knew the black shorts and apron were waiting on the bed for her. In the meantime, her legs were there for his perusal, and a tiny scrap of underwear was the only thing keeping him from-

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. No, I can't go without my pants on, and no, staying home isn't an option. We sent back the R.S.V.P. Card."

He could have convinced her otherwise, but the promise of free booze and a large crowd provided a perfectly valid excuse to dance pressed against his girlfriend like a second skin.

Besides, Elena had been positively gleeful about the party, and he _liked _it when she was like this. Her smile was as bright as the fucking sun when she was happy, and she seemed to have more and more reasons these days to smile.

They finally made it downstairs. Jeremy was joining him in the anti-costume brigade, but Tyler had double-crossed them and dressed as a priest. Bonnie was wearing some sort of silver flapper get up (current costumes barely captured the salacious feel of their historical counterparts, but Damon kept that comment to himself). They climbed into Jeremy's truck and Damon's new SUV (fuck, Bambi was _not_ going to be the death of him should there be a car accident) and headed off.

Laura had the coven members park along the dirt trail that led to the back of her property to clear up room in the front for the guests. One of the less bright girls had invited a class member, who then invited someone else...everyone had thrown parties like that before, so they understood. The newcomers thought they were attending a party at a lesser-known college Greek club for some mother Earth loving shit. Damon wasn't about to burst that bubble; if it had survived all the pointy hats and broomsticks so far, then it would hold up. Ignorance was bliss, as the saying went.

Elena grabbed his hand and started for the open French doors on the patio, at which he found himself hesitating for a moment with no real need to do so. Old habits died hard.

Once inside, he found things going rather well. Jeremy was making an effort to try to be helpful to Laura, who seemed to be the color of a tomato for the night. Damon was pretty sure it was a combination of drinks, heat, and the attention of the vampire at her side. Fifty bucks, they were short a Gilbert on the drive home.

Elena introduced him to a couple of classmates of hers who might be in his classes in the spring, and he could _feel_ how pleased she was when he seemed to hit it off with them. Fuck, what with the way she seemed to be melting into his side, he'd be friendly with a rabid pit bull if she kept it up.

Elena's eyes sparkled and okay, part of it was from the contents of her Solo cup (which, with some impressive skill, she was dancing around with in her hand), but he'd like to think it was also because of other things. Like him.

Happy Elena – albeit packing a stake at all times – was more _herself_ than the Elena he'd first met those many years ago. He'd admit to a bit of a bias, but that young girl had been hiding from grief in a relationship with his younger brother, and she'd distracted herself with all the drama that came along with him.

A little hypocritical, but he'd rather his days resembled _Buffy _than _Dawson's Creek_. Better chance at musicals.

And on the dance floor, as he dipped Elena back, she giggled when her wig started to shift, and she beamed up at him. It made his heart beat a little faster. It made him grin like a fucking idiot.

No, he totally wasn't whipped. No really, not _completely._

So it wasn't like he brought her back up and drew her into his arms, felt her hot breath on his neck as her own limbs wound over his shoulders to loop behind his head; he didn't start moving them to a slow beat, despite the fast-paced song playing or the crowd gyrating along with it.

So naturally, she didn't whisper in his ear 'I'm really glad you came'.

And he didn't kiss her back before saying 'Me too'.

* * *

**L**aura looked up from her perch on the stairs as Jeremy came over to lean against the opposite side of the rails. He was feeling rather proud of himself; large crowds were still typically too much for him, what with the rushing of blood and heartbeats, like advertisements for a snack. Damon had really helped him with all of that; even if he acted like he could barely tolerate him, he had always been a phone call away.

"So would you call this party a success?" he asked as he surveyed the room. Despite the double doors open to the patio, the old house was warm. The seated girl managed to nod affirmatively even as she pulled her hair up. There was a smattering of freckles just below her right ear, and her skin was so pale he could make out the map of blood vessels below the delicate-

He focused on his drink.

She gave a little laugh - finding what she about to say funny before it came out of her mouth. "Well, no one's dead yet," she declared, but there was a carelessness to the way she formed her words, and Jeremy snorted into his cup.

For a moment, her face bore a questioning look, but then she groaned and buried her face in her hands. "You know what I meant."

She was blushing, and Laura was the sort to blush straight down to her chest. Jeremy's gums ached but he couldn't look away.

"Don't - Stop that." She clapped her hands around her throat. "Stop looking at my neck like it's...it's _porn_ or something."

They were far enough from the crowd that they wouldn't be overheard, so Jeremy decided to take a chance. What would Damon say to that? The old Damon, the swaggering, confident, Devil-may-Care Damon; not the sentimental, whipped dude sleeping with his sister. He smirked at her and leaned closer. "It sort of is..." he trailed off, hoping that it was suggestive.

The reaction was not more embarrassment, or flirtation, or anything that could be construed as positive.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he sputtered as her tears started. "What's wrong?"

Laura wiped furiously at her tears with the heel of her hand, and smudged her makeup. "Bonnie didn't tell you?" Her voice cracked. When he shook his head, she sniffled and swallowed.

"My mom was the coven's leader until my parents were found drained in the woods. Animal attack, the police said. That werewolf pack only arrived recently, so they weren't suspects."

Most comic book heroes were missing parents, but there usually wasn't too many frames dedicated to how others reacted to the orphans. He'd heard most of the bullshit, cliched lines himself, so he settled on words that didn't feel rehearsed.

"You must miss them. I'm sorry."

Despite the tears forming, she forced herself to shrug. "You didn't do it."

But someone _like_ him did. "Shit."

Beside him, the girl took a deep breath before continuing, having not heard his epiphany. "I've sort of been really out of it since then, not really doing anything besides school and this...but I trust you Jeremy. I wouldn't have let you in otherwise. Not every day I can say that about your kind, but seriously, you're cute, so maybe that's why? I mean, I don't think so. I've never even had boys over from school, even the cute ones. I've never even thought to use _magic_ to do that-"

How much had this girl had to drink, and – hold up, he was cute?

"-morally rep-reppy-rebree...Screw it. Jeremy, do you want to go to the movies?" When his shock did not allow him to answer within the time frame she had allotted him, she shook her head. "I get it if you don't want to – I just said some really sad stuff – but I sort of hoped, well, no, I had it all planned out in my head and-"

"I'd love to," he cut her off, and smiled.

"Oh, good," she breathed, relieved.

Without anything else to do, he jerked a thumb in the direction of the crowd. "So, wanna dance?"

She might have been a little less than coordinated, but she scrambled to take his offered hand.

* * *

**J**ust _being_ in the parking lot filled with shitty, cheap, college-student cars was enough to make Katherine break out in hives. She focused on the house to help ignore them: Victorian, well taken care of...at least, until tonight's revelry.

Made sense that Elena was at a party. The great-great-ad-nauseum-grandapple didn't fall far from the tree.

She had figured she would occupy herself for a decade or so with a tour of Europe; the last time she had done so was the 1890s and it had been decadently opulent, on the arm of some duke or marquis or some other pretentious royalty – she remembered his ridiculous mustache but not much else. With only the promise of eternal youth and very little compulsion, the months had turned into years, but in the end, a royal tasted just like a peasant, but only in a blinged bottle.

Blinged. Words were definitely getting to be so entertaining.

Bulgaria was boring. So was Amsterdam. She decided to host a party the night she arrived, and after a few hours of pulsing bass and the writhing bodies of the pale, emaciated youths (Eastern European models looked more like vampires than she did), it was very clear that things were not as they used to be. So a quick phone call to a discrete cleaning and removal service and Katherine was on her way.

And she made sure to bring a witch or two, to block the tracking spell on her.

Katherine knew better than to compel any of the inebriates outside; they weren't the owner, who was protecting the house with magic so strong she could feel it. As she picked around the perimeter of the house, she looked for anything that could be construed as a 'welcome': a mat, one of those dinky little yard signs that said 'Come on in'...it was soon quite obvious that there were definitely not any of those items on purpose. She huffed.

Bitches were getting smart.

A nice little cat-and-mouse game would be the perfect way to preoccupy herself. Yes, she had made appropriately foreshadowing statements about Elena's future, and the girl was getting older.

When they said that a doppelganger was a bad omen, and that they could ruin your life, they didn't exactly specify for Petrovas. Katherine wagered they could probably both see that prediction the same way.

To hunt and haunt and stalk and scare used to be a time-consuming process that typically involved paying for information on the person's location, gypsies, and above all else, luck. She had seen her share of empty-threats for retribution or future torture that never came to fruition; it wasn't for lack of trying, sometimes people just couldn't be found to exact those terrible, nasty things on.

But then Facebook and Foursquare were invented, and they plucked the fun right out of stalking. Damon and Elena's relationship wasn't much a shocker.

The backyard was an overgrown garden, an attempt at the lovely English ones she remembered. She made herself comfortable and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket.

Her sources had told her correctly, and Damon Salvatore was an easy scent to pick up on, so he was the lucky first recipient of a overtly sweet and underhandedly imposing text message. After a few seconds longer than she expected, the French doors opened.

"I don't recall you seeing your name on the invite list, Katherine. Very unlady-like, showing up like this."

"Must have forgotten my manners in my haste to get here." Her voice dropped into a purr. "But I assure you that I'll make sure everyone knows that I'm here. _Must_ say hello to my relative."

"Get out of here, Katherine." His blue eyes smoldered.

Intense, both of the brothers were always so intense.

"Always the same from you, Damon," she said with a sigh, and looked out on the dance floor, trying to find her doppelganger. "Elena's 22 now, 23?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Bet she's starting to look it. Tell her to make sure she's moisturizing daily; I hear that helps."

Then from somewhere in the house, in an unrelated conversation, she heard a peal of laughter identical to her own, emanating from-

"Blond? Again? Not good for our coloring," she scolded with a shake of her head.

Damon dropped his head back and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Katherine, we both know you've got an issue with me. Leave her out of this. If you're looking for blood, look at me. Have at it. I was a great chew toy then and will probably make a good one now."

_Some things never change_, Katherine thought, and couldn't help but laugh at it. The dramatics, the valiant heroism, the looks...and other things: Damon was willing to whip them out in an instant.

"This was never about _you,_ Damon. You're fun to fuck, and fuck with, but don't ever mistake this for being about you." The usual pain that a comment like that would typically cause him didn't surface, instead Damon seemed more resolved to stop her from getting to Elena. That surprised her, but it didn't put her off. There was more than one way to cause harm.

She gestured towards the party. 'All those heartbeats so close, and the music. It's almost too much to stand, isn't it?" she asked conversationally, giving her time to catch him with his guard down.

It only made him laugh, which ended up working to her advantage. "Somehow, I think I'll manage...got you to thank for that, don't I?"

Whatever that meant. She gave a yawn. "Bored now," she sang before blurring past Damon and off of the property, but not before casting a glance over her shoulder.

Always fun to watch him double over, to hear him grunt in pain. Stakes were handy for things like that.

* * *

**T**he scent was sudden and sharp and shit, his gums ached from the pressure of his incisors wanting to drop. Jeremy scrunched his eyes shut, for fear that the tightening of the veins around his eyes would be noticed, even in the dimly lit room.

"What is it?" asked Laura, alarmed. She placed hand on his arm.

"Blood," he ground out. "Someone's hurt. That way."

She started to pull him with her, and he could feel her pulse jumping beneath the skin of her hand, not quite in time with the music, and her hair was still up, her neck looking so -

No no no.

He tamped down on the blood lust and did not follow her. A little space, that's what he needed. Space from her, and a drink, and he'd be able to -

Bonnie was followed and then outrun by Elena, who was darting through the crowd with little regard for spilled drinks or jostled party goers, which only meant one thing, since it was very clear that neither he nor Bonnie were injured: Damon was hurt.

He had to get his shit together so he could help him.

"Why aren't you coming?" Laura said, frustrated, and his patience was worn too thin, his control slipping.

Jeremy's head jerked up and he could only imagine what he looked like to her – probably a bit like _Sandman's_ Dream from a more sinister artist's depiction. The young girl pulled back from him, stared, then ran in the direction of the others.

"You okay, man?" asked Tyler as he followed, and Jeremy, head ducked and eyes shut, nodded curtly.

"Just go help him."

* * *

**H**is name was drawn from her lips without much thought; Bonnie had sensed that one of theirs was in trouble, and had started for the backyard. Halfway to the French doors, Elena passed her brother and could make out the shape of her boyfriend on the ground.

She didn't care, if it was in her path, it was pushed out of the way.

Relief was a giddy thing when she saw that while yes, he was in pain, the stake was only in his thigh and nothing vital.

"Who w-"

"Katherine," he spat, and with her help sat upright. Elena allowed him to lean against her as Bonnie dropped beside them and began to assess the damage. The name should have scared her, instead it made her angry.

"We can look at this inside," she suggested, already starting to look around for signs of her twin. Fear and practicality were two different things; taking care of his wound meant paying attention, and even a step outside of the door put them in a vulnerable spot.

"Just yank it," demanded the injured man, who was gritting his teeth against the pain. Elena wrapped an arm around him, and he readily took hold of her hand with a tight squeeze.

"Can't," muttered Bonnie. "This is too close to some major arteries."

"Guys, I'm-" Laura called as she jogged towards them.

"Don't!" Elena whipped her head around and put a hand up. "Do _not_ step out of the house."

If she knew the way Katherine worked (she'd never know how or what she thought, and wouldn't try), the vampire would wait for a moment like this to attack.

"Can you get in touch with the German coven?" asked Bonnie as she shifted to kneel. Elena was thankful that her friend was being calm and trying to distract the other girl, as well as keep her in the house.

Jeremy came out a moment later, looking ruffled. "What happened?"

"Took a nap," deadpanned the prone man.

"Sarcasm later, moving now," Bonnie instructed and gestured for the others to help her move him inside.

There's a way to kill a mood, and it's carrying a bleeding guy inside.

An ambulance arrived quickly, and the crew allowed both Elena and Bonnie to ride to the hospital with him. Elena was thankful for Bonnie's presence, because she was able to answer a lot of the rapid-fire questions they asked. The witch had made Damon into a human pincushion a month ago, and it became handy now.

The ER staff treated him quickly. Elena and Damon shared a look when they told him they'd be treating him for blood loss.

As Elena stood by the head of the bed and watched the team work on him, she realized this could have gone a different way. What if Katherine had gone her usual route and stabbed him in the gut? What if she 'd torn his throat out?

It was like the air was sucked out of her, and she gripped Damon's shoulder.

Soon enough they had finished patching him up, and Bonnie had left to call Bonnie. Elena grabbed the doctor's stool and wheeled it next to patient.

Damon took up her hand, and seemed to study it for a second. "Crisis averted," he finally said.

Elena was struck again by a terrible sense of guilt. If he hadn't come after her, if she hadn't dragged him to the party...seeing him in a hospital bed was killing her. She felt the sting of tears, and her boyfriend immediately noticed.

"'Len, what is it?"

"I love you."

The heart monitor beeped. A doctor was paged overhead. Damon continued to stare at Elena.

He swallowed thickly, but continued to stare.

She said it once, might as well say it again. "I love you, and all I seem to do is get you hurt. How many times have you nearly died beca-"

"Doesn't matter," he cut her off. "None of that matters if you mean that."

Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, nearly to the point of distraction, but his gaze was magnetic. She nodded.

Her boyfriend moved gingerly, but slid on the bed. "Come here."

Hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the narrow hospital bed left very little room, but Damon put an arm around her and drew her as close as possible, kissing her soundly, leaving her breathless. He hadn't said it but she could _taste_ it, and she found herself chanting the three words over and over as they kissed.

She sat up and grew serious. "Promise me you'll wear the Gilbert ring from now on, okay? We've got...there are options, choices we have now and..."

"Anything," he whispered. "Anything you want, Elena."

The young woman pressed her lips to his on last time before resting her head on his chest, and hugged him tightly. "This is all I need."


End file.
